


Julian, Debriefed

by Ms_prawo_jazdy



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bottom Elim Garak, Dominion War (Star Trek), Espionage, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Julian is a spoonlicker, Julian is a warrior, Julian is strong, M/M, Oral Sex, Paranoia, Plot, Plotty, Rough Sex, Spoonlicker, Spoonlicker is my new favorite slur, Switch Garak, Switch Julian Bashir, Top Elim Garak, Top Julian Bashir, War, Xenophilia, Xenophobia, minor original characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25169035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_prawo_jazdy/pseuds/Ms_prawo_jazdy
Summary: Julian and Garak's relationship is exposed to the DS9 community when Julian is accused of espionage simply for sleeping with "the enemy." His friends are stunned and many do not know how to accept the relationship or the accusations. During this personal strife an Obsidian order/ Dominion plot to get rid of Garak while also taking out as many Federation ships as possible unfolds.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Kira Nerys/Odo
Comments: 73
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place season six during the dominion war post-Zyal pre- Ezri Dax. I am actually writing this with my sister who I just sucked into the fandom recently!!!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian's illicit affair has come to the attention of Starfleet. After a mysterious incident involving the destruction of another ship Julian and Garak's relationship is exposed to the crew and community of DS9 and both are isolated and hauled in for questioning.

I.  
As soon as the doors to Capt. Sisko’s office slid open with a whirl, he knew he was fucked. His CO sat, not looking up, with his hands tented at his brow. Next to him stood a Starfleet security officer he had never seen before, a human woman (maybe with some alien parentage? There was something otherworldly about her) with short sharp shoulder-length hair and high cheekbones named Changyen Zhou attached to the Bajoran consulate. She stood behind the captain, her arms crossed and her face a mask of neutrality.

Great. They know. They had been so careful.

 _Well, that’s a lie_ **,** he thought. After all, there’s only about 400 people living full time on Deep Space 9. Just last week he thought he spotted the flash of a Bajoran security guard rounding the corner just as Garak had slipped an arm around his waist and they fell laughing into his quarters. It’s like a small village in the countryside back home. Everyone knows everyone’s business. It was made smaller by the constant missions being run in and out of the station and mostly, just in and never out of the Gamma Quadrant, or even Cardassian controlled territory. Quark’s had become a shifting sea of Starfleet faces, many fresh out of the academy, who would never see home again.

Bashir had learned a lot of death and loss, the same as everyone else in this war. On the last particularly brutal mission on the Defiant he watched seven crew members slip away from his grasp. After that, there was a new hardness to him. Garak noticed the gradual change in his formally sweet-faced friend, and this latest fall from optimism immediately. Though their arguments had grown more lively before that black day, there was a sudden tenderness in his interactions with the doctor. Not that he pitied Bashir, but that he understood him better than ever now. Different parts, but similarly damaged, perhaps.

“Dr. Bashir. Please sit down,” Zhou directed as the doors shut behind him. Bashir noticed his fists were already in tight balls. _Oh boy, Depression, elevated fight-or-flight response, self medication tendencies..._ his own thoughts chimed in, and not for the first time. _If I survive this war I am going to need quite the holiday. Perhaps with a counselor in tow._ He knew Zhou noticed his elevated blood pressure and heart beat on her PADD.

 **Calm. Down.** He commanded himself. Slowly, he reached for the chair and let his fingers relax lightly on to the armrest as he forced his heart to a normal rhythm. The perks of his enhancements were often subtle.

“Now, what’s all this about Captain?” Bashir asked. Sisko’s head snapped up from his resting position.

“I think you know exactly what this is about Doctor,” he said in a quiet tone that was at odds with the anger on his face.

“Garak?”

“Garak.” Sisko confirmed. Zhou stepped forward and put her PADD on Sisko’s desk.

“Computer, recording, Dr. Julian Bashir One--Debrief.”

“Debrief?” Julian raised an eyebrow and looked at Sisko, who only glared. “One damn minute, I want a word in private with my commanding officer before I’m interrogated.”

“You don’t have a lot of room to be making demands right now doctor!” Sisko said. “We are at war and you don’t think to mention you’re literally in bed with an agent of the enemy, despite having top security clearances.”

“What? He’s more than proven-”

“Proven!” Sisko stood and stalked around his desk towards Bashir. “He hasn’t proven anything except that he is still an ear for the Cardassians and that he is willing to lie and kill to achieve his goals. This is an investigation into a potential leak of intelligence to Cardassian and Dominion forces. A leak that cost hundreds of federation lives as well as the Defiant’s sister ship. Now do you understand how serious this is?”

“Sir. You think I…” Bashir was suddenly at a loss. He realized it wouldn’t look great to be in a relationship with the man with the face of a long time enemy who was tinker, tailor, soldier and spy all in one. But what he was being accused of was ridiculous! After all he had done in service of the Federation.

“I don’t...know what to think, Julian,” SIsko said, his voice softened like he was speaking to his son. “But we need to know everything. And it needs to be on record and in front of Starfleet security.”

“And after that?” Julian asked, stunned into complacency.

“What?”

“Debriefed. Usually that comes at the end of the mission,” Bashir said. “Is this the end of the mission, for me?”

Zhou and Sisko exchanged glances. Her warm brown eyes flicked back and met Julian’s.

“Following this interview, you’ll be escorted and confined to quarters while we conduct a thorough investigation. If you refuse to cooperate, you will be relieved of duty and transported back to Earth... while we conduct a thorough investigation,” Zhou said. She gave Julian the impression she clearly did not relish ranking a fellow officer over the coals. Still, duty was duty.

Julian’s heart tightened again. Dismissed, essentially, while his comrades still needed him. While Garak went back to being alone in his tiny, cold tailor shop. Zhou picked her PADD back up.

“When did it start?”

“Six years ago,” he said quietly. He felt tears shining in his eyes momentarily, but quickly pushed them down.

“I mean your sexual and romantic relationship, not your friendship.”

But it all ran together didn’t it? It was them. Their friendship went from once a week lunches to nightly drinking in the darker corners of Quarks over the last six months. At first, they would barely talk. Garak would sip Kanar and watch as Bashir drank to get as maudlin as the entirely-too-safe synth ale would allow. He’d listen. And then it started small. It was a slow rub of the shoulders, a glancing brush against each other’s hands. It was electric, having something to feel again in these small, intimate moments. Staring at doomed faces turned back to conversation and playful banter. They huddled closer to hear one another, allowing the chaos of the bar to give them an excuse to touch hands and press against each other.

It was still such a new fragile thing, Bashir was almost afraid to speak of it out loud. As if doing so would invite all the ugliness back in to destroy their newly found evenings together. He was sure they’d have more time before something like this would ruin things. Everything in ashes, yet again. Bashir slumped into his chair.

“About four months ago. Well... It had been building for longer. But I invited him to my place after receiving a bottle of real Scotch from my father to celebrate the occasion of his...early release from prison,”

Julian gave a little laugh at the memory. He invited his friend over to his quarters to share a drink of a true Earth delicacy. Meanwhile, Garak was fascinated by the idea of being released from prison.

“Your Federation is quite the generous and forgiving organization. There wouldn’t be much of your father left on Cardassia after what he did.”

“Well luckily he did it in the federation. So now we have very good Scotch and my engaging and sparkling boyish charm instead of a dead man.”

”Ahhh Yes, scotch,” he sipped it slowly “This is quite interesting. What is it made of again?”

“The seeds of a grass, which are smoked by burning solid cubes of a kind of loamy soil called Peat, and then aged in containers made from the trunks of trees.” Julian looked up to find Garak a little surprised.

“My goodness doctor. Humans really are ingenious creatures. Give them nothing more than grass and dirt and trees and they make this,” he raised his glass to Bashir and gave a self-deprecating nod, his eyes shining even in the dimmed light “To your father, the ex-con.”

Bashir snorted into his glass. The liquor was making the stars twinkle a bit brighter and there was a beautiful homey warmth spreading from his chest down. He carelessly threw himself on his couch and rolled his glass around, admiring the pale gold liquid inside. It occurred to him that he was happier than he’d been in months, and it wasn’t just the drink. Garak settled down gently besides him, always mindful of his manners. It was quiet, but they sat as close as they did at Quark’s only the night before. Only now they didn’t need a cover or a reason. Garak slipped his hand into Bashirs, lacing together their fingers. They stayed like that a long time. Bashir was afraid to meet his eyes, afraid of what that would mean, afraid the spell would be broken, but also afraid of what it would come next. It wasn’t his brightest idea, he realized for the 100th time since inviting the spy into his quarters. He knew that then as he knew it now, but he was far past caring.

“Elim…” Bashir whispered. Before anything more could come from that thought, Garak’s mouth covered his own. Bashir was annoyed at his momentary shock. Wasn’t this what he wanted all along? He shook himself back into the moment and returned the kiss as passionately as he had received it. Garak slipped a hand under the clasp that held his uniform’s jack closed and deftly pulled the fabric apart. His hands found their underneath his undershirt, his mouth never leaving Bashir’s until the doctor pushed him back for a moment to catch his own breath.

“You seem well-versed in Starfleet uniform removal…”

“My dear, I’ve been dreaming of getting you out of that wretched uniform for years. Pulling it off of you might be the most satisfying part of this evening.”

“I certainly hope not,” Bashir said with a coy smile as he leaned back on the couch, allowing Garak to dive into another flurry of kisses and clothing removal. Garak bit into Bashir’s chest, just below the collar, causing Bashir to throw his head back and let out a soft moan in ecstasy mixed with a slight delicious edge of pain. This seemed to drive Garak absolutely wild. He reached out and stroked Bashir’s exposed throat before biting again at his clavicle.

“Elim, I have no idea…”

“Me neither doc...Julian,” Garak purred. “I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

There were certainly awkward moments, that first time. Garak had clearly had this moment on his mind for a long time and took the lead, with Bashir following his motions. They moved from couch to bed quickly. It was exciting and thrilling, even if a bit clumsy. While he was no prude, Bashir hadn’t been with a man since his academy days, and certainly never a Cardassian. While he struggled to remember Cardassian sexual anatomy behind a fog of liquor and sex he briefly remembered the pre-med Interspecies Relationship course, but it was more concerned with avoiding Bolarian Herpes than providing pleasure to your alien partner.

Bashir had turned up the heat in his quarters to nearly 30 C to make Garak feel more comfortable even before they had kissed. Now, both undressed, they studied one another for a moment - as if working out what would fit where. Garak closed the space between them figuring that a hands on biology lesson would be more insightful and certainly more fun.

They helped each other along, Garak guiding Julian’s hands to his ajan. Ah, internal genitalia - Bashir remembered this now. With a long slow kiss Bashir slid his fingers into Garak and began to stroke the rapidly swelling organ there in. Garak was nipping and biting at Bashir’s shoulders with little hisses of pleasure. Taking the hint - Bashir bit down on Garak’s now dark neck ridges and heard him release a small delicious gasp as his prUt everted.

Julian’s hand was slick with Garak. He rubbed his fluid on himself and brought Garak’s hand to touch him. Bashir was already aching for Garak so a few instructional strokes was all he could handle this lesson without ending the evening early. They both looked at one another expectantly for only a second before Garak came up to his knees and grabbed Bashir’s hips in a move full of Cardassian swagger. Garak was taking what he wanted. Soon Julian was slick with sweat, listening to Garak moan in his ear as he slowly entered him. When he bottomed out he stilled, allowing Julian to get comfortable around his size.

It was almost too much even without the friction of movement. Garak made delicious gasps and moans at the warmth of Julian surrounding him. Sounds Julian would never forget. Just as Julian had never been with a Cardassian, Garak had never been with any other species - let alone a warm blooded one. No wonder there were so many Bajoran/Cardassian children.

They moved together in a kneeling position, Bashir reaching back and wrapping an arm around the back of Garak’s neck while the other hand took hold of Garak’s - leading him to his own swollen sex. Julian continued to instruct Garak in his pleasure, moving his hand up and down and subtly adjusting his grip until he fell into a rhythm. His scaled hand, rough from constant work, felt amazing around Julian, like a warm leather. After what felt like only a few precious moments Garak roared as he bit down again, this time quite hard, into Julians soft shoulder. He could feel Garak spasm, spilling into him and this was enough to finish Julian off as well.

They lay back, Garak’s arms wrapped around him as they enjoyed the blissful moment of sex-induced amnesia, when nothing mattered outside of this moment in time. They lay like that until Garak stirred, pulling himself up and resting his arms on his knees.

“Julian. This was... most unwise.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Julian asked exasperated. His shoulder felt wet, and when he touched it blood came back on his fingertips. He showed the blood to Garak who smiled apologetically.

“Certainly not. There is so much more I’d like to say,” Garak placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder as he reached for the dermal regenerator. “But most pressing is this: you do not know what you are getting into,” he turned away and swallowed hard, a look of concern growing in his eyes. Even at this moment, there were secrets between them.

“Doctor Bashir?” Zhou asked, snapping him out of his reverie. “So it was you who initiated the relationship?”

“It was...mutual, I’d say.”

“You said it had been growing for a while. What precipitated this change in your relationship, at least in your mind?”

“I’d say, it was the last mission I ran on the Defiant. I lost seven patients on that run. I was rotated out of combat duty soon after that,” he knew it was just his time for a break, but it felt like a punishment. He’d rather be in the thick of it, not thinking about past failures, but overwhelmed in the moment. He was getting better at living in war than in relative peace. Probably why Starfleet required battle rotation. “I supposed I needed someone particularly at that point.”

“Doctor, we are going to need you to provide any communications between yourself and Mr. Garak. And we will need you to turn in any personal logs.”

“God, everything? You have my service record in front of you right now, do you not?” Bashir pointed to her PADD.

“Yes.”

“I would like my service awards entered into the official record first, please.”

“As of this stardate, Lieutenant Doctor Julain Bashir has been awarded the deep space ribbon, seven battle ribbons. Two Golden Palms for extreme valor under fire. The legion of Merit. And the Red Cross of medical valor,” Zhou read off, calmly and clearly.

“Computer. Release all personal entries and communications of Julian Bashir to Commander Zhou.” Julian swallowed hard. “I intend to fully cooperate. I have nothing to hide.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word gets out that Julian has been arrested - especially after he gets sacrificed on the altar of politics and is paraded in manacles down the promenade. Garak loses his shit, Odo saves the day more than once, and Kira is absolutely livid.

She asked a few more preliminary questions before releasing him to security, with the promise to review his personal entries and to expect a round two. Bashir realized they intended to march him through the Promenade flanked by station security. He bristled. They could beam him directly to his quarters, but the rumors were already flying around the station. This show of force was a message, to show the Bajorans and fellow officers that Starfleet would hold their people responsible. While he didn’t appreciate being made an example of, at least he would momentarily pass by Garak’s shop, so he remained silent. 

“I’m so sorry about this doc,” Tam Leptin, one of the Bajoran guards, whispered as they marched into Ops. Jadzia slowly stood up from her station, her eyes widening. Kira’s mouth dropped open. She began to go up the stairs two steps at a time, before they made it to the bottom. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Kira demanded. 

“Kira, don’t. They’re acting under orders of Starfleet.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. Don’t move.” 

“I really just want to go back to my quarters. It’s alright.” He smiled at the fury in her eyes. He was certain she would be turning that fury towards him soon enough. The trio boarded the lift, and headed towards the Promenade. 

Odo took up station just outside of Garak’s shop, and of course, he noticed immediately. Garak put down his work and looked outside. He immediately noted there were three more officers stationed along the Promenade all armed and with a clear shot at his shop. It was just past mid-day, and the Promenade was still buzzing when suddenly a whisper rolled through the crowd like wind through leaves. Garak took one step out of his shop when Odo blocked his path.

“Garak.”

“Constable, what is going on-” and that’s when he saw it. Julian flanked by security being paraded down the Promenade. His ridges immediately darkened in anger. Every deeply ingrained animalistic drive to protect Julian rebelled against his reason. The calm mask was almost gone and he lost control. Odo proactively put a hand on Garak’s shoulder and braced himself. He knew better than anyone the kind of anger and violence Caradssians will meet out to those who threaten their mates. He had broken up many a nearly fatal brawl over Bajoran comfort women between officers when the station was Tarok Nor. This relationship added an entire new layer of complications to an already complex investigation. 

“Let me go Constable,” he growled, trying to take a step forward but held back by the changeling’s tremendous strength.

“No, Garak. Not here, don’t give them the satisfaction,” Odo lowered his voice. “Don’t make me do this.” 

“You’d love the chance,” his voice broke, betraying him. Julian rounded the curve in the Promenade and paused to share a glance with Garak. He looks so tired, Garak thought. Odo cocked his head, motioning the guards to keep moving. He wasn’t in favor of turning this into a spectacle, whatever Starfleet’s reasoning. All Odo could think of was watching Nerys in the same position. He was technically the enemy as well. What if someday they accuse her of leaking secrets? It didn’t seem like justice. 

Garak knew he wasn’t getting through the constable. His eyes were black with anger. Odo turned to speak but Garak simply turned into his shop and shut the door. Odo used his emergency access as soon as Garak started wrecking his own shop. 

“Garak, Garak stop!” he shouted, extending an arm to completely wrap the tailor, restraining him. 

“Let me go you bastard!” Garak managed to choke out around his fury.

“No Garak. Listen to me: You’re in a blind hormonal rage right now. In a few minutes you’ll be able to think straight. I’m doing you a favor.” Garak clawed at the moving viscous substance of the Constable, but even as he spoke he felt the anger subsiding, being replaced with shame. Living on this station was already a daily reminder of his impotence. For a few months, he had felt more like a man than he had in years, and now they’ve proven they can take that away too. He felt overwhelmed by the closeness of Odo suddenly, and the walls seemed to be closing in. 

“Please. let me go,” He said weakly. Odo slipped his body back into his solid form. Leaving Garak on his hands and knees, surrounded by the broken pieces of a display. 

“I’m sorry, Garak. It wasn’t my call. This is Starfleet’s investigation.”

“Not a problem... at all ... Constable” Garak gasped, trying to return his mask, but it felt pointless. Odo extended a hand to help Garak up and was surprised when Garak took it. As he stood up he had just one question. 

“Why?”

_________ 

Kira stormed into Sisko’s office on fire like he hadn’t seen in years. 

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded. Sisko was expecting this. He asked Zhou to leave them for a moment, making sure the computer recording was off. 

“Major.”

“You confine a member of senior staff to quarters and you don’t even discuss it with me?”

“I’m sorry Major, but we had to move quickly. I’m happy to fill you in,” Sisko motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He pressed his hands to his eyes. That was one of the more painful moments of his command. He knew the trials Basir had been through; those dead crew members were as much on his hands as the doctor. He had suspected something was going on between the two of them for months but didn’t want to believe it. He had hoped Julian had better judgment than that. 

“Four days ago, a Starfleet ship The USS Chicago was part of a convoy near Cardassian space doing forward scouting. The Cardassians used some sort of a disrupter weapon that caused the ship to decloak. They couldn’t raise shields fast enough. The Chicago was lost. There was no way for them to know that ship was there.”

“And you think Bashir has something to do with it?”

“Once it was done with its mission, it was meant to head straight here. Before it was attacked, a scrambled data stream was covertly sent out from DS9. We unscramble enough to make out the registration number of the Chicago using a recent Cardassian code. Only four people on this station knew about that mission, Major.”

“But Bashir. Julian Bashir. He likes to play at super spy in the holosuite and maybe in his cat-and-mouse games with Garak, but he is loyal to this station and to the federation. If anyone should be investigated it’s that tailor.” 

“We absolutely are looking into the possibility Garak acted alone. But he’s not a Federation citizen. Julian is. And we have new ability to hold citizens in such cases”

“Wait, the possibility? You think they were in on it together?”

“Major, this may be hard to hear, but Bashir may have even inadvertently let something leak. He and Garak…”

“What’s that look on your face mean?” Kira asked, as it slowly dawned on her.

“They’re lovers, Kira”

“No. Bashir? With that bastard? Bashir. That’s as unbelievable as espionage.”

“He admitted to it.”

“But Garak is a murderer. He’s...a dishonest, oppressive...Obsidian Order...slimy...what was he thinking?”

“I don’t know. But he seems very sincere about it. He admitted to being lonely...and now, I have the pleasure of combing through his private thoughts and messages looking for evidence of betrayal.” 

“This is... just... insane.”

“Something doesn’t feel right about this whole situation, that’s for sure.” 

__________ 

Odo poured a thick glass of Kanar for Garak. He stayed with the tailor to help clean up the pieces of his broken shop. Now the man sat, staring into nothing. 

“I’m supposed to take you in tomorrow morning for questioning,” Odo admitted. Not even a flicker passed across Garak’s face. “I don’t suppose you have anything you want to tell me before then?” 

“And what might that be? That I put Julian up as the fall man for some scheme to blow up a single federation ship? Absurd.” he swirled the dark liquid around. This was the good stuff. Quark must have sent a real bottle this time. He had never served Kanar this good before. 

“I believe you.”

“Gratifying, constable. I suppose I won’t be needed in your office tomorrow morning after all.” 

“You’ll still have to give a statement to Starfleet. I’ll be there,” Odo said in an attempt to be reassuring, though he knew it wasn’t much of a comfort. “And they’ll be investigating you as deeply as possible, of course.”

“And Julian?”

“Confined to quarters, with guards at the doors.”

“I suppose he’s not allowed any visitors.”

“No. I’m sorry. Just those involved with the investigation,” Odo said. Garak nodded and closed his eyes. 

“Thank you for your...kindness, Odo.”

“Hrmph. I have my moments,” he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, where a huge crack now ran down the side of the glass. Luckily Odo was able to save the shop before it was a complete disaster. Odo and Garak shared an appreciation for orderliness. He oddly felt closer to the man after his torture and rescue at the hands of the Caradassian spy. He could appreciate their commonalities as outsiders. Perhaps why his kindness was so surprising to Garak. “They’ll be watching you closely now, you know.”

“They always were. They never stopped,” Garak said. Odo realized that, as usual, he and Garak were talking about two very different things. He glanced up to see the form of the Major just outside on the Promenade amidst the thinning crowd of gawkers. “It seems the Major is trying to get your attention.” Odo stood up and headed towards the door.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Just fine,” Garak responded, deadpan. Odo had an easier time than most figuring out Garak’s lies from truths, but it would take a blind man not to spot the lie in that response. 

“I’ll...check on you in a few hours,” and with that Odo walked out to meet with Kira. 

Kira was flushed with anger. She greeted him and immediately grabbed Odo’s arm and quickly walked with him back to the security office. When the door shut she was able to speak.

“I need everything you have on Garak.”

“What?” 

“I know you saved some Cardassian security files. I’ve got Bajor sending me all the intelligence we gathered during the resistance. I’m putting together a file for Starfleet.”

“Only Starfleet?” 

“What?”

“If this was for Starfleet, the request would come from Sisko.” 

“Ok. Fair. Then do this for me. We have to save Julian, Odo,” she is so attractive when righteous passion takes hold, he thought. “He doesn’t know the kind of man he’s dealing with, but he’s about to find out.”

“Nerys…”

“If we can’t convince them Garak acted alone, we can maybe convince Julian to give up Garak to Starfleet and at least avoid a lengthy trial.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“What!”

“Nerys, what if a Cardassian came to me with your war records? Would I find anything in there you wouldn’t want me knowing?”

“This isn’t about you and me.”

“Isn’t it?” Odo paced behind his desk. He couldn’t believe he was about to defend a Cardassian spy to his former-terrorist girlfriend. What strange places these solids find themselves in. “You seem sure he is guilty on very little evidence.”

“Julian should see this information, regardless of where the investigation goes. He should know the kind of man he’s sleeping with. The kind of cruelty he is capable of.”

“The last six years Garak’s faults have been on full display multiple times, if not always the specifics. I don’t think there is much you could tell the doctor to change his mind.”

“Why?”

“Well, there’s nothing a Cardassian could tell me to make me fall out of love with you.”

“Stop sympathizing with Garak. They aren’t in love. He’s manipulating Julian, can’t you see that? Garak is incapable of feelings. He’s a psychopath”

“His reaction to seeing Julian paraded down the Promenade for all to see indicates otherwise.”

“So you’re not going to help me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said for the second time that day. Kira straightened up and marched out of the office.

Jadzia met her in the Promenade just as she exited. Of course Ben would do this at shift change for maximum scattering of the senior staff. Now they couldn’t all barge in all at once in an indignant show of unity. 

“Kira, what is going on? Why is Julian under arrest?”

“Come on, we’ll go see him together.” Jadzia quicken her step to keep pace with Kira.

“Woah, woah, slow down. Everything is happening so fast,” Jadzia held Kira still a moment out of the way of the crowds. “Breathe. Ok. Now, tell me what is going on?” 

“Julia was arrested for possibly leaking important battle plans to Garak oh and they’re sleeping together,” Kira blurted out in a similar rush. 

“That’s ridiculous! Julian is a great officer. Poor guy. This is terrible”

“...and?! That’s all you have to say?”

“I mean, the last part was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?”

“I can’t believe this!” Kira tried to whisper, but it came out more like a muted shout. “First I have Odo defending him and now you telling me you knew? Why didn’t you stop him.”

“Well I guess not. Julian was in pain, Kira. Garak has helped him through some of it. From what I could tell, it was doing both of them some good.” 

“No good can come from that man. Frankly I don’t know why we’ve tolerated his presence since the Cardassians joined with the Dominion. Even if he had nothing to do with the attack, just because he can’t go home doesn’t mean he has to be here.” 

“So tell him to leave,” Jadzia looked over her shoulder at the shuttered shop. “Go ahead and ask that heartbroken man sitting alone in the dark to pack up his fabrics and get off your space station.” 

“I…”

“Listen, Kira. Before you do anything rash. Take some time to meditate and really think about what you’re doing,” Jazdia looked sadly towards the shop again. “I suppose I’m not cleared to talk to Julian.”

“It’s me, Sisko, Zhou and Odo.” 

“Well then. When you see Julian, do me a favor and go easy on him. Let’s say, you’re right. Even if Garak is using him, not that I necessarily think that’s the case, then what he’s feeling, at least, is very real.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each of the senior staff reacts in their own way - with kindness, with suspicion, or with violence. Garak gives as good as he gets and wakes up suffering on the floor of the brig.

Garak sat frozen in his shop. He honestly didn’t know his next move, so it was better not to make one. Eventually, the crowd would die down and he’d be able to slip to his quarters with just a few long, hard stares. He was used to those. What he wasn’t used to was being the talk of the station. He kept a particular eye on the Major and Commander Dax chatting nearby. Everyone was suspicious. Everyone could be in on it. His list of enemies were long, though at this point, though so many had died. The important thing now was to not lose focus on staying alive.

_You can’t help Julian if you are dead._

Perhaps it was an enemy of the doctor’s. He didn’t seem to have any, maybe he had underestimated the man. Foolish. There would be no way to know for sure until he could see Julian and make sure he was safe. The rage was gone, but the drive lingered, prickling just beneath his skin making him grit his teeth. He began making plans without evidence, based on his training and understanding of Cardassian nature and espionage. Who hated both Garak and Bashir?

_First thing’s first. Dukat._

He had grown cold after the initial rush of adrenaline, and paranoia was settling in for a long stay. He went to turn on a small heater when he smelled it. Jullian. Just a few hours earlier, Julian was putting his own scent on Garak by kissing his neck just after shaving. He had been enjoying the scent and the memory of his rough stubble all day, but now it just turned him further into his shame. How could he have thought he could ever keep Julian safe?

Whoever did this had impeccable timing. He had been particularly happy, with his guard lowered, well, as low as he ever could lower it. He wasn’t used to being knocked off-kilter like this. He tried to prevent it.

“You shouldn’t sleep here until morning,” he had called out just hours earlier when they had started their day together. But Julian just gave him a maddening smirk in the bathroom mirror, splashing water on his face after a shave. He had just emerged from the sonic shower and his chest was a map of bite marks which he studied for a moment. The dermal regenerator was right next to the bathroom sink, a handy tool Bashir found when fucking a Cardassian but Bashir used it less and less. He enjoyed the tiny aches his bites gave him throughout the day. He would sometimes sneak a peek down his torso and remember the night before. It made him feel wanted, claimed in a way that had previously been well...alien to him.

“You sure did a number on me last night.” Julian smiled, briefly changing the subject, to show Garak his bare chest. He stepped forward letting his gray hand run over Bashir's lithe brown body, pausing at one or two of the bite marks. Garak had been thrilled to see a small touch of the slapdash swagger returning to his mannerisms after his last tragic mission with the Defiant. A little something of his old self peeked through. Julian slapped some aftershave on his fresh face, an incredibly strong, spicy, smell of amber and smoky wood that Garak had learned to adore in the last weeks. As Garak smoothed his hands around Bashir's body and pulled him in for a kiss, but then the damn doctor started talking.

“Aren’t you tired of the sneaking and lies?” Julian nearly whispered. Garak took the moment to land the kiss he had been planing in case Bashir thought of any more stupid questions. Julian finally pulled away but stayed in Garak's arms. “I mean, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Ha! Really doctor,” He only called Julian ‘doctor’ when trying to set their more formal, in public tone. Or to just really annoy Julian. “You? Sick of sneaking and lies? If I remember correctly, it’s exactly those activities that attracted you to me. Why cease them now?”

“You’re a dangerous man to lo-” Julian stopped mid-sentence and blushed. They stared at each other for a moment. He slipped a hand inside Garak’s shirt, running his warm fingers along his ridges and met his lips with a deep, urgent kiss. Julian's aftershave clung to him. “There. Now you smell like me. We’re even.”

“Not yet, but I intend to ‘get even’ with you tonight, dear boy,” Garak said, running his fingers through the handsome doctor’s hair. Bashir rewarded his crassness with a brilliant smile and pulled on his Starfleet undershirt. He grabbed his uniform off of the bed, their bed, and finished getting dressed.

“Garak. I have friends on this station. We have friends on this station, who are going to notice what’s going on soon.”

“It’s not “our” friends I’m worried about. It’s my many enemies.”

“Cardassians” he sighed, giving him another kiss. He scooped up his bag and headed towards the door. “I’ll message you when I have some time in the infirmary.”

And that was the last time he saw him apart from being humiliated on the promenade

 _I shall not know a moment’s peace until I see him again._ A painful truth of biology as well as psychology. His hands still rang from the force of using a coat stand to smash his counters and displays. This alone would take weeks to fully repair, especially in wartime. Now the lovely Trill woman Jadzia was at his door. _Great, soon I’ll have every member of his merry band of do-gooders trying to bother me_ **.** His hatred of being exposed like this made him even angrier at her intrusion. He considered pulling down the blinds in her face, but emotional responses are messy and now was not the time for sloppy mistakes. _If she’s not an ally, she’s a source of information, either way, it’s best to stay on her good side._ he thought as he slowly unlocked the door.

“So sorry my dear, but I’m closed, at the moment,” he beamed, the absolute picture of polite cordiality

“I figured as much,” Jadzia returned his polite smile with just as much shine. Just over her shoulder, some whispering Bajorans took a few curious steps closer. “I was wondering if you wanted some company, say on a walk to Quarks, where I can buy you a drink...or two?”

“It seems beneath you Commander, to spend time with a suspected spy. Though today does seem to be full of surprises..”

“I’m not here under orders. I’m here as... a friend,” she smiled, blocking the view of the nosy Bajorans who would like nothing more than to see his shop in pieces. Garak looked skeptically at Jadzia. “Ok, fair. As a friend of our mutual friend.”

He wanted to be alone, but now was the perfect time to start building information into a clearer image. His emotions had dissipated, now cold revenge was all he was interested in. She took his arm as if he was her father and they walked across the now calming Promenade in silence. Her presence was not as intrusive as he first thought. She returned the hard, confused glances from Bajoran and Starfleet alike with her bright enigmatic smile. She’d make a hell of a spy.  
Quark’s was alive with activity, which notably dropped when Jazdia walked in with Garak on her arm. She reassuringly squeezed his arm and went to order at the bar. They quickly found seats as the crowd studied their drinks with occasional glances and whispers their way.

“Tell me, my dear, what made you decide to grace this rapidly aging, simple tailor with your delightful presence.”

“The same thing that made you accept: Julian.”

“I see he and I are quickly becoming the talk of the station.”

“As you said, it’s a strange day. Not that you weren’t always his favorite topic, at least,” she flashed that smile at him again. She had a way of convincing you she was open and candid while calculating every minute for full effect. He had never fully appreciated her disarming effects before but could see why Julian had been drawn to her.

“Are you...able to see him.”

“Not me, no. However, I am able to send him messages or call him,” she squeezed his arm reassuringly again. He never knew she was so tactile which on any other day would have been comforting or at least surprisingly intimate, but today it made him ache for Julian's touch and seemed to subtly ramp up the agony of his absence. Garak took her hand, patted it, and placed it safely on the table, trying to quell the rising storm inside him that would eventually need some release.

“I see,” Garak sat and scanned the room, noting everyone he knew or might stick out, old habits and all that. He noticed Chief O’Brien in particular seemed unable to turn away from staring at their table. Garak was not surprised, but he was surprised to see irritation flash across Jadzia’s face. “Your accepting nature seems to be in short supply among the staff.”

“That’s their misfortune. I’ve seen the good you’ve done for him. And Julian has also clearly rubbed off on you a little,” Jazdia said. Garak thought he could smell aftershave again, but it was probably just imagined.

“And the Major?”

“She’ll... come around, especially if Odo and I have our say.”

“Here,” Quark himself dropped off the drinks, as he usually did when Jazdia came in. “It’s uh, on the house, Garak,” he said quietly, making sure no one else heard.

“Well, that may be the most surprising part of today,” Garak said as he sipped the drink. The good Kanar, yet again.

“Are you...alright? Is there anything I can do?”

“My dear, you are already doing quite enough. Just being here is an improvement.”

“Looking into the eyes of potential enemies.” Jadzia said noting his recon of the bar. She lifted her bloodwine to her lips, also surprised that Quark had served her a quality vintage rather than replicated slop, and joined in Garak in covertly scanning the room.

“Only the ones willing to meet my gaze. Speaking of which,” Garak said motioning to the rapidly approaching Chief O’Brien. Jadzia seemed to steel herself, plastering a smile as closely to her face as possible.

“Jadzia. What are you doing with this... treacherous snake,” Miles asked, the pause indicating a plethora of things he would actually like to call Garak.

“Settle down Chief. What happened today isn’t his fault.”

“No? Then who is to blame?”

“Something I’d also like to know as well. I knew we’d find some common ground Chief O’Brien” Garak chuckled and prepared for the hamfisted punch, which came straight away.

“You and I have nothing in common Cardi scum!” he shouted, landing a thick sounding blow to the side of Garak’s face, but Garak barely turned. It was a moment he was waiting for. A bar fight would be just the thing to reignite his anger. Garak turned to O’Brien with his same, plastic smile, only now his pupils were dilated, his ridges dark. The adrenaline was back, and now someone could pay. Someone would pay.

“Oh, Chief,” he said, rising out of his seat. The bar was silent now, a sea of frozen, shocked faces. _O’Brien, Julian’s friend. Father of two,_ he reminded himself. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

The Chief had only fought a few Cardassians in a frenzy. Soldiers usually won’t enter that stage unless they’re fighting for their family’s lives as well as their own. Miles always figured he could take Garak, should it come down to it. He had replayed the confrontation over and over in his mind. Of course, Garak couldn’t be relied on to fight fair, but as long as MIles kept him in his sights, it would be over fairly quickly.

Miles wasn’t expecting this.

The strike pushed him through the air with a thick crack and down to the lower Dabo tables. Miles awoke a moment later to pandemonium all around him and Jadzia coming down the stairs towards him. He stumbled to his feet.

“Let me at the...Cardi...dirty fightin,” he stumbled forward, as Garak rounded him, landing another sound blow to the side of Garak’s skull. He grabbed Miles’ wrist and twisted it until he heard a sicken crunch and O’Brien doubled over in pain. Garak turned around to security spilling into the bar and a phaser, set thankfully to stun, hitting him in the chest. He stumbled forward before being hit again, this time, he was down.

Garak awoke sprawled on the cold floor of one of Odo’s holding cells, the taste of blood still in his mouth and pain radiating out from a phaser burn in his chest. It took him a moment to remember why he was there on the cold ground. So many possible reasons...He tried to sit up, but the pounding in his head and the pain in his chest made the action seem unwise. The large clock behind the on-duty security detail read 0600. He had spent the night unconscious in security, bleeding on the floor. His back ached from the cold. He noticed Chief O’Brien was nowhere to be seen. Of course, Starfleet goes to the infirmary. The Bajoran security guard spotted him stirring and came around in front of his cell.

“I’ve had a great shift, watching you bleed,” she said with a smirk.

“It’s done me a great deal of good as well, my dear. Could I possibly trouble you for some sort of pain killer,” he tried to sit up again but the phaser burn sent blinding white pain into his vision. He gasped and gave up once again.

“If it was up to me Cardassian, I’d give you the most permanent pain killer available. Why don’t you ask our chief of medicine to cure your headache.”

“Nola…” Odo’s disapproving voice emanated from just behind her. Neither had noticed the changeling enter. 0605. He must have seen Garak’s arrest on the morning report and come right down.

“Constable,” she greeted Odo defiantly.

“Your shift is over. Go home.”

“Yes sir.”

As she walked out Odo lifted the force field, he had a small medic’s bag in his hands. He opened it up and started to prepare a hypospray. He pressed the cold metal to Garak’s neck and the slight sting of medicine burst into his tired and sore body.

“I’m sorry my officers left you like this,” he said, now preparing the dermal regenerator.

“Nothing more than a criminal like me deserves,” Garak said. Odo hoped he was only missing the sarcasm, but Garak sounded serious. “I suppose at least now you don’t have to fetch me for questioning. I’m already nice and tender for Starfleet. It will be an easy day for their inquisitor.”

“Starfleet doesn't do things like Cardassians.”

“Indeed they don’t. They are far more insidious,” Garak physically felt a little better and hauled himself up to a sitting position. Odo healed the burns on his chest and was about to turn his device to a bruise along his Chula, but he stopped him. “That’s a minor injury I’d like to keep Odo. For as long as possible.”

Odo stopped. Just when he thought he had Cardassians figured out, they always found a way to surprise him, though the same could be said about all solids. He turned the regenerator to Garak’s blackened eye.

“I’m going to let you out. Get something to eat, take a sonic shower, do whatever you need. Be back here by 0900.”

“Most kind of you.”

“You don’t seem to be a threat to anyone anymore. Chief O’Brien clearly started the fight, he admitted to it. However, he spent the night in the infirmary with a hairline fracture in his jaw and a crushed wrist. He’s willing to drop the whole matter. Would you…”

“No, no. I have no intention of pressing charges. To use a human expression: we both gave as good as we got,” Odo helped him to his feet, once again.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bashir is under lock and key, Sisko gets an intimate view of their relationship and Garak gets interrogated by Starfleet

Julian hadn’t slept all night. He just stared out at the stars, using his superior mind to go over every encounter, every silly note mindlessly dashed off, every late night argument over literature or politics. Now Sisko was going through it all. I wonder what Capt. Sisko thinks of Meditations on a Crimson Shadow, he smirked to himself.

Nothing seemed illicit or top secret to him but...could he have? They discussed politics, current events, but never really the details of work. He hated that he would even think about Garak this way. He hated the Federation for turning him against Garak, against himself. He knew he wasn’t a traitor. He knew Garak was...well, he knew he wouldn’t do that to him.

He wouldn’t. He looked into the reflection of his own eyes on the transparent aluminum. Not a question, a declaration of fact. He may be questioning everything, but he knew this much to be true. Garak wouldn’t do this.

What he would do is get arrested for fighting Miles at Quarks, he thought. Jazdia’s message hadn’t taken him by surprise frankly. The entire senior staff was stirred up by his now not-so-private life over concerns ranging from intergalactic espionage to settling up old grudges. Jadzia made it clear O’Brien was the one who started it, and that Garak had finished it. Now the two people closest to him were somewhere on this station injured, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing but wait and allow doubt to eat him alive. The appalling silence surrounded him. Garak had warned him, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t listened.

“You have really only experienced a small taste of the cruelty my fellow Cardassians are capable of, Julian,” he told him while laying together. “A Cardassian will ruin everything about you instead of killing you just to prolong the satisfaction of dominance. My enemies will focus their attention on you just to make me suffer.”

“You haven’t suffered enough at this point?” he asked, turning over in bed to rest on Garak’s chest. His warm body infused Garak’s with lively heat.

“Oh my dear boy. My whole life has been structured around suffering,” he wrapped his arms around Julian. “Only now it’s my own. Richly deserved too.”

“Most Cardassians are already my enemy, at least the vast majority of the ones I’ve met.” Julian sighed.

“I told you, we have much in common,” Garak laughed. It was early yet, and the sound of Garak’s laugh warmed Julian even more. He pulled himself up and rested his chin on Garak’s abdomend, tracing a circle with his finger around his Chula.

“I’m not afraid,” he whispered, kissing Garak and giving him a small nibble to his sensitive spot and sliding his hand down beneath the covers.

“You know, it occurs to me that I may simply be a symptom of your self-destruction.” Garak gasped, making those little noises Julian found so arousing, as he began to tease Garak.

“Hmmm. Stop talking,” he breathed softly on his Chuva, which quickly shut down conversation.

**It’s as if every moment of my life is vibrant and real and always right in front of me. I don’t have that human ability to put things behind me, to let the past lie or forget. Every memory is like it happened yesterday (which reminds me, what did you think of that classic Earth book I gave you?) I certainly can’t forget the other night. Please, don’t push me off like this anymore. When can I see you again? In private. Don’t tell me it’s too dangerous, I’ve risked my life for less.**

**-J**

**The book was interesting. This Billy Pilgrim character seems to suffer most when following his duty of the state. Quite the unusual theme! Then again, you did warn me this was an “anti-war” novel. What a fascinating concept. I did notice the way he experienced time seemed so revolutionary to the human mind, while it seemed more familiar to me and the way my people experience our memories.**

**I don’t want you to forget, I know I never will. I just want the repercussions to be clear. Remember, sentiment is the greatest weakness of all and we are at war. How sentimental can we afford to be?**

**We can discuss it further. Tonight. 2200hrs in my quarters. It is dangerous, but you seem to be determined. Make sure you are not followed, I trust you can figure that out on your own.**   
**-G**

Sisko also didn’t sleep that night, though some of the communications between Bashir and Garak that delved deeply into Cardassian literature did eventually lull him into almost dozing off. At every turn, Julian seems just as invested in their relationship as Garak. He hated to admit It, but it didn’t really make sense for Garak to spend so much time convincing Bashir of his intentions only for this one short-sighted mission. The nagging feeling that this was wrong only grew. It was his duty to comb through Bashir’s private thoughts and messages, but he was ashamed, and of course not nearly as embarrassed as his officer was at this moment, who he may have needlessly put under arrest. His office lights seemed too bright. It was going to be a long day.

Zhou wouldn't even tell him with complete candor why they were suspect. _She probably thinks I’m too close to him,_ he thought. He flipped ahead a few entries.

**I, for one, can not believe I’m sharing my bed with a man who thinks The Unending Sacrifice AND The Enduring Flame are boring. Perhaps one of O’Brien’s drinking songs is more your speed.**   
**-G**

**Are you calling me stupid, Elim?**   
**-J**

**Well clearly I’m wrong if you figured that out almost immediately.**   
**-G**

Nothing. Banter, and some steamier messages he certainly won’t soon forget. He never thought too much about Cardassian anatomy and was more than happy to put that knowledge under lock and key in his subconscious. It seemed the only espionage going on is Garak jumping through hoops to prevent anyone knowing about their relationship. It was no wonder security was concerned. He was, of course, no fan of Garak, and found the whole thing against common sense, but no laws seem to be broken. No betrayal. Maybe Zhou found something, but this was feeling less and less likely.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and picked up his coffee. It was time for their first, and hopefully last, staff meeting without Bashir.

“Good morning people...where’s Chief O’Brien?”

“He...had an altercation last night and is off duty for the next few days,” Odo said, glancing at Jadiza.

“Alright,” Sisko put down his mug exasperated. “Well. What happened?”

“He threw a punch...at Garak,” Jazdia said with a wince and a shrug. Everyone was silent.

“Are you kidding me? Do I have to make this abundantly clear to you people? No one is to be starting bar fights, especially with individuals who are innocent until proven guilty.”

“Garak is guilty of many things,” Worf chimed in.

“None of which are the responsibility of the Chief of Operations of the station."

"Neither party is pressing charges," Jadzia noted hopefully

"Great." Sisko said, covering his eyes. This is already a long day and it's not even 0900h yet. "This is going to be a tough day I realize, but my goal as always is to keep life running normally on this station. Now we are down our chief of operations and our chief medical officer. I need you all to be the professionals I know you are. Nothing less will help Julian"

"So….you don't think he's guilty?" Jadiza asked.

"I'm not seeing it, and the evidence seems flimsy. But the investigation is ongoing," he sat down and folded his hands in front of him. "Even if he isn't guilty, we need to be prepared for the eventuality that Starfleet might not allow him to stay on DS9.”

“This is ridiculous on its face frankly,” Odo said. “Garak may love Cardassia but he hates the Dominion even more. He wouldn’t assist them in an attack”

“And he loves Julian,” Jadzia said, Kira rolled her eyes but stayed silent. “Would Starfleet dismiss him based solely on his relationship with Garak?

“No, but I have a feeling he’ll be reassigned fairly far away when cleared. They feel he has exercised poor judgment, no matter the outcome,” Sisko said. Kira looked shocked.

“Wait, they get to decide about a personal relationship that poses no threat to anyone? Since when?” Kira asked she was getting indignant.

“Since I started a war. Look, I’ll do my best to keep him here Old Man, if he wants to stay. I’m relying on all of you to keep it together. Zhou might have questions for all of you so at least give Starfleet security nothing more to write home about,” Sisko said. “Now. Report.”

0900\. Garak was cleaned up and back at the security office. He was morbidly curious about the upcoming interrogation techniques, but felt nothing beyond that. He was more interested in how to turn the conversation to get more information out of Julian’s former employers and would-be captors. Odo sat at his desk and nodded at Garak.

“We’re in this conference room here.”

“Not one of your integration rooms?”

“I...don’t feel that is necessary. Garak, it would be in your best interest to be...more humble than your usual self. And don’t get too combative.”

“Odo, if there’s one thing I know how to do better than tailoring, it’s how to behave during integrations,” Garak said as he walked along they Promenade together, more friendly than jailer and suspect. “Though I have not often found myself on this side. Tell me, why are you being so kind? I figured you’d love to have me in one of your windowless boxes to extract my secrets.”

“Because... If they can arbitrarily decide you’re a problem, they can do it to anyone. And it’s not right.”

The doors slipped open to reveal Sisko and Zhou.

“Strange, where’s the neural splitter? The pliers? Not even one restraint?” Garak asked. Odo sighed with resignation.

“Sit down, Garak.” Odo said, annoyed.

“Hello Mr. Garak,” Zhou said calmly. She wasn’t entirely human, Garak realized immediately, but wasn’t sure what uncanny creature she may be.

“Just Garak. And you are?”

“Changyen Zhou, Chief of Security with the Bajoran attachee.”

“Pleasure. Good morning, Captain.”

“Garak. May I first apologize for my Chief of Operations?” Sisko asked, Zhou looked up slightly shocked.

“Not at all Captain. It’s best forgotten,” he said with one of his clearly contrived laughs. “Now, how about we skip to the part where you tell me just what the hell you think is going on?” He said in a clipped polished manner. Odo covered his eyes and shook his head. Goddamn Cardassians.

“I’m sorry?”

“I am here to be interrogated. Interrogate me. Let’s not waste any more time.” Garak demanded unable to contain his brimming contempt for the entire exercise. There sat the smug Captain who had needed his help time and time again. He knew enough secrets to sink that man if he wanted. Same with Odo. They did not know what kind of man they were dealing with.

“A scrambled data stream containing sensitive information was sent from a console in Pad C straight to Cardassian space using a recent Cardassian code,” Zhou explained.

“How very sloppy,” he sneered. “I hoped you Sisko, at least, would know me better than this. May I see this code?” Zhou slid a PADD towards him. A quick scan confirmed it. Obsidian Order. Using an old access code of his from the Terok Nor days, their little way of saying hello. Why not blow up a Starship and humiliate him all in one trip? The idiots, this smacked of Dumar.

“I’ve never seen it before in my life.”

“Garak,” Zhou said, “If you assist us in this investigation, it would look favorably on yourself and on Doctor Bashir.” Suddenly Garak realized what was going on and threw up his mental defenses immediately. Zhou looked annoyed.

“Botha?” he asked. “Psychic abilities must make being a security officer much easier. “

“I’m here to find the truth, and will use whatever tool I have at my disposal to do that. Now, we did not find anything concerning on its face from your communications with Doctor Bashir-”

“You what,” he felt hot anger growing in his chest. He had never been exposed like this before, and for such a blunt knife to cut him so deeply...Julian truly is a weakness he thought. He had been trying to banish that reality from his mind for months now, but it hadn’t done any good. Now it was a fact, plain as day. A truth he couldn’t stretch or mold.

“And I’m the one sitting here being accused of spying. You’re only here, of course, because I’m Cardassian. Anyone could have that code by now. It would be well known to the spineless wastes at Central Command. Really, I thought Starfleet was above making assumptions based on racism”

“Why would the Cardassians frame you?”

“Because Starfleet is so pathetically predictable. They saw an opportunity to blow up your ship while torturing me and wasting your time, and it worked because you couldn’t look beyond the obvious and your own bigotry,” he realized his mask was slipping once again, but damn it felt good to get indignant, even for a moment, and tell Starfleet exactly what he thought of them. “Not to mention tossing aside your brightest officer in the middle of a war and throwing the executive staff of one of the most important military objectives in the Alpha Quadrant into chaos. It’s so simple and perfect it’s clearly a plot of the Dominion. But that’s just the opinion of a simple tailor,” he spit out the last few words through clenched teeth.

Waste of time, Sisko thought, and he hoped Zhou could hear it. It’s what he had said when she arrived, though not because he thought Garak was innocent. It was because he thought the spy would stonewall them at every turn. But it certainly did make sense to him. More sense than Garak actually working with the Dominion-controlled Cardassians.

“Why would Cardassians want to torture you?”

“Many reasons. None of which are relevant here,” Garak said staring forward. “And you helped them. You’re helping them right now. I’m sure Odo warned you what your little display on the Promenade would provoke...unless, you were hoping for that reaction.”

“Cardassians, especially members of the Obsidian Order, are famously hard to read. I have my own tricks for cornering even the toughest individuals into the truth,” Zhou said, almost apologetically.

“All of your talk about rights and freedoms. You’re really no better than the Order,” Garak sneered. “And Julian always says he’s ‘representing the best of humanity’ when in uniform. But not only is that uniform ugly it is also meaningless,” he slammed his fists on the table. Heat prickled just beneath his skin as he rose from his seat. This was too much. His protective anger was rising once more. He was on the very edge of losing control. He leaned forward, mere inches from her face. “Now. Let me see him.”

“Not yet,” Zhou said, the same slight, sweet smile on her face. Odo intervened before Garak had a chance to react, locking a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Alright. I think that is enough. Captain, Commander, a word.”

They stepped just outside of the conference room. Odo didn’t really have much of an ability to produce expressions, but he clearly disapproved. Sisko couldn’t blame him.

“Captain…this is torture for Garak.”

“Yes, Constable. I’m aware. I believe Garak is correct about more than a few things in there. I’m suspending this investigation.”

“Captain, you are not authorized to do that. I’m here on behalf of Starfleet security.”

“Your methods will not be allowed to continue on my station. I’ve done enough against my own judgement, hurt a friend and let my officer down,” Sisko said. “I’ll deal with Security. This ends now.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bashir and Garak are reunited but Julian begins paying the price for his relationship with Garak when the Bajorans on the station begin to refuse to be treated by him, Starfleet begins to dismantle his career, and friends and cadets lose respect for him - starting with being left off the duty roster of the upcoming Defiant mission in Cardassian space. It's probably up there among the worst days of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out rich text formatting! Good lord, I was sitting there writing HTML in. Instead of all thoughts being bolded they are italicized here. Much nicer.

_ The doorbell.  _ Julian thought as he drifted between consciousness and dreaming. He was slumped against the foot of his bed. He must have dozed off some point in the early morning. The clock on the wall read 0900. He stretched and heard it again. He sighed.  _ Damn it _ . He didn’t really care what kind of state he was in. It certainly wouldn’t matter to Starfleet Security.

“Come in.”

“Julian?”

“Major?” Julian stumbled to his feet. She had hoped to see a flash of his boyish smile just for a moment, something of the Julian she knew and not this strange one with genetically modified superpowers and a Cardassian boyfriend. She didn’t see that, but he didn’t look like the super genius corrupted by evil either. He looked like her friend; a tired, unshaven version in last night’s wrinkled clothes. “I’m so sorry, uh, I wasn’t expecting...”

“I know. Um. How are you doing?” she clutched a PADD close to her chest.

“Ha. Uh, splendid?” he rubbed his stubble. “I’ve slept probably two hours or so?”

“Oh if this is a bad time…”

“No, no. Please. I could use a friend,” he smiled. “How about some coffee?”

_ Friend _ .  _ I hope we have similar definitions of friend.  _ Kira thought. 

“Sure. But really. How are you?”

“Fairly demoralized, I should say. But...I suppose security can’t be too careful,” he handed a mug to Kira and looked into his own. “I just hope Garak is alright.” 

“He’s...probably also has had better days.”

“I see. Are you here to interrogate me as well?”

“No, Julian. No. I’m here…” she held up the PADD for a moment and then put it down. “I...am not actually sure why I’m here.”

“Major,” he said in a soft voice. “What is that?”

“It’s...something I was going to offer you. But I feel silly now. I have a feeling I know what your answer is going to be.”

“What is it?”

“This is all the intelligence the Bajoran Underground was able to gather on Garak, plus a few things from Starfleet and some leftover scraps Chief O’Brien managed to fish out of the computer system.” 

“But, why bring this to me, Major?” he asked.

“I wanted to convince you to do the right thing,” she said embarrassed, she could feel her nose ridges and the tips of her ears turning hot. “But I think you probably already are. I just didn’t want you to get hurt. I was hoping you’d read this and turn him over to Starfleet.”

“May I see it?” he asked. She handed it over. He immediately pressed the reset button on the PADD, erasing the files. He put it face down on the table between them. Kira just nodded as Julian rested his head in his hands. 

“Julian, why him?” she asked. She was honestly curious. There were shocking details in those reports he erased, but it was also all very fragmented. He was a hard man to trace. But Julian knew more than anyone what was truth and what was lies, didn’t he?

“I thought you weren’t here to interrogate me?” Julian asked. She realized he was choked up and reached out and took his hand, squeezing it hard. 

“I’m not. Honestly. I’m just trying to understand. I really care about you Julian. We all do. I just don't want to see you get hurt by his lies.”

“We’re all already hurt, Major,” he whispered. “You know better than anyone that there’s no coming out of a war clean,” he looked into her eyes. How could he justify himself to someone who he also cared about, who had suffered and lost so much, perhaps even directly at the hands of Garak. Her suffering was immeasurable. He could only try and be honest, though he knew Garak would hate that route. He would lie and lie to keep everyone in the dark and himself safe. But he wasn’t Garak, he needed to trust others. 

“Ever since my enhancements became common knowledge, I’ve had to come face-to-face with the fact that I am an outsider. I’m not quite human, but not really anything else. I couldn’t hide it from the world, or myself anymore. I suppose it was one of the reasons I joined Starfleet, to find my place. But the truth is, there’s no place for me,” his eyes burned in their dark sockets. His exhaustion felt like an unearthly presence in the room. “Garak knows how that feels. He knows what it’s like to lose the compass of your faith in the fog of war...to have no people, no home. He knows me, as no one else does.” 

They sat in silence for a moment and she squeezed his hand. 

“Major, I can’t help what has happened. I understand how you feel about Cardassians and Garak in particular. I understand if this is the end of our friendship.”

“I’m going to find a way to be okay with this Julian. I owe it to you. You’ve never been alone, not before this and you won’t be after this. I promise you that.” She squeezed his hand again just as the doorbell rang again. 

“Doc Bashir, Kira,” Odo nodded at the two. “The investigation is being temporarily suspended. You’re not to leave Deep Space 9, but you are able to move freely within the space station. 

“And Garak?” he asked, relieved. 

“He’s on his way here. In fact, Kira, it is probably about time we make our exit.”

“Oh yeah, ok,” she reached out and took Odo’s hand. “Congratulations Julian. I know you’ll get through this,” as they turned to leave the door slid open revealing Garak, flushed slightly blue from running. He looked surprised to face the major and the constable in Julian’s room. 

“We were just leaving.”

“Odo, thank you. Thank you for everything,” Garak smiled, allowing himself this small emotional outburst. 

“Enjoy your freedom Garak, for as long as you can hold on to it,” he said and put an arm around Kira and led her out of the doctor’s quarters. 

There, in the too-bright light that humans prefer, stood Julian, looking even more tired than when he saw him last almost 24 hours previously. He gave Garak a slight smile.

“You look terrible,” Garak said, rushing towards him. Julian laughed as Garak wrapped him up in his arms. “Are you alright? What did they do to you?” This felt so wonderful, finally holding him in his arms. He had never had this particular rush of endorphins before, mainly because he had never really allowed himself to get this close to anyone else before. Garak kissed him as he slid the uniform jacket off of Julian’s thin frame. He held Julian’s face in his hands, his tears wetting both of their faces. 

“I’m alright, I’m alright. I’m not the one who got smacked across the face, shot by a phaser  _ and _ spent the night in a jail cell,” Bashir laughed. Garak was very serious though. He slid Julian’s shirt off and seemed to be examining him. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure,” he whispered as he ran his hand over Julian’s bare chest and back, coving him with kisses as he went. “Making sure you aren’t hurt.” 

“Elim,” he said softly as he took his trembling hands in his. The sound of his own name being spoken by Julian was enough to calm his shaking. “I am alright. Really....what did they do to you?” 

“They kept me from you. That was enough,” he took his hands back from Julian and started unbuttoning Julian’s pants. “Cardassians don’t do well when separated from their mate in such a fashion. Our brains produce a hormone that makes us truly miserable until reunited...or the death of the mate,” Julian was completely naked now, and Garak was continuing his inspection. 

“I know we didn’t see each other for a day, but I’m really too tired and miserable-”

“Julian, all I want to do is hold your body against mine, to feel your presence and know you are safe with me,” he pulled off his own shirt. “Let’s go to bed.” 

They slept most of the day away together, with Garak holding on tightly to Julian, hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. He even spent some time in between dozing just watching Julian breathe, assuring himself that it was real, he was here and safe and nothing would come between them again. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. This entire event had planted seeds of doubt in his mind, and he was certain in Julian’s as well. He pushed it away as much as he could, but consciousness kept reclaiming him. The Order knew, and Starfleet. The Order would come at them both sideways again, though with more effort and less obvious next time. He was now truly the most dangerous thing in Julian’s life, and Julian fought Jem'hadar for a living. But it would take the entire station security force to pull him away from Julian now. He didn’t want it to end, neither the day in bed nor the real  _ love _ he felt for Julian. But in the back of his mind he knew the truth. He always had. Because he loved Julian he knew he couldn’t be within 100 lightyears of him. 

_______

Julian had plans to play darts at Quark’s with Miles that evening, though he didn’t think they were still on. Still it was worth a shot. Garak had departed late that afternoon, as Julian ravenously ate through some replicated food, looking for all the world like a man on a mission though he was quite tight-lipped on what exactly that mission was. Julian shaved, dressed, and strolled out of his quarters for the first time in more than a day. 

It was a short walk around the habitat ring to Mile’s and Kieko’s quarters. It could be his imagination but it seemed every Bajoran he passed was studiously looking the other way and wouldn’t meet his gaze. He was sure he wasn’t just imagining things. While he was prepared to lose some people, hopefully at least some Bajorans would understand. He had saved their lives, delivered their babies. He was practically a country doctor, seeing the runny noses and broken limbs of whole families. Surely his years of trusted service would mean something. He rang O’Brien’s door and waited to be let in. Instead the door slid open. 

“Oh, hiya Chief. I just got busted out of the hoosegow and wanted to see if you were up for our Thursday night darts game after all?”

“Hey Julian. Listen, tonight is not a good night…” behind him O’Brien’s apartment sat dark and empty. Keiko and Molly must have been on-world. 

“Ah. Well. Maybe some time tomorrow then?”

“I’m not sure about tomorrow either,” O’Brien said flatly. 

“Chief, is everything alright?”

“Oh I’m just fine. Mending alright after what your little Cardi boyfriend did to me last night”

“What  _ he _ did? Jadzia said you suckerpunched Garak”

“Unbelievable. Christ, you know what Julian? Don’t come back around me until you sort yourself out,” O’Brien closed the door in his face. Julian stood there a moment in disbelief and then slowly walked back to his quarters. There was no way he was going to face any more angry faces tonight. 

______________

The next day in the infirmary wasn’t any better. His Bajoran nurses were perfunctory, and there was a fair amount of whispering and looking his way. Some patients refused to be treated by him. One family demanded a Bajoran nurse while the grandmother of the family, a feisty woman of 70 named Tress, shouted them all down. 

“Oh please. I've known plenty of spoonlickers in my time. It doesn’t mean he isn’t the best doctor on the station. Quiet down!” The family looked uncomfortable for a moment with her choice of words, though the mother smirked at Bashir. 

“Fine Ma, whatever you want,” she walked away with her husband and two children. 

“I’m sorry about them,” she waved to her family. “They can be so judgemental.” 

“Right,” he gave her a forced smile. “Now, what seems to be the trouble?”

Jadzia walked in right before the end of his shift. He didn’t realize how much he needed a friendly face. She gave him a broad smile and he realized it was the first he had seen all day. 

“Oh thank god, Dax” he came up and hugged her. 

“Julian! Welcome back to the land of the living,” she said with a laugh. “I missed you too. Are you off yet?” 

“I am now actually... Sorry, it’s just so good to see a friendly face. I haven’t seen many today.”

“I was worried about that. Want to grab something to eat or a drink?”

“Ah...somewhere in public I assume?”

“I was thinking the Klingon place, actually”

“Would you mind terribly if we ate in?” Julian asked. 

“Of course not, come on, I bet you're sick of your quarters, at least,” she took his arm, much like she did with Garak the night before and they walked out on to the Promenade. 

“So, things have been a little rough on you?”

“A little? Yes I should say so,” they walked by Garak’s darkened and shuttered shop. Bashir peaked into the windows. “He really did a number on it.”

“Do you think he’ll open back up?

“I have no idea. You’d think I’d have more insight, but he’s also been strangely distant since yesterday,” He sighed. “I guess I've let every single person on this station down.”

“Not me,” she said, taking his arm again. 

“What about Worf? I haven’t heard from him.”

“He...isn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings. But he knows you’re my friend, so if he has any problems with you, he can keep them to himself.”

“I think of Worf as my friend. Miles is my best friend. But he isn't speaking to me either.”

“Oh Julian. I’m so sorry.” 

“Well...I had a feeling I’d lose friends. Never Miles though. I always thought Kira would be the one to…”

“Well, Odo has pointed out to her on several occasions recently that she is also technically in bed with the enemy,” Jazdia said with a smile. “Hell, 70 years ago Worf and I would have never been able to work out.” 

“Well, I hope others see it like that. At the moment almost half of my patients are refusing to be seen by me. One even called me a ‘spoonlicker’”

“A term of endearment?” she asked hopefully as she opened the door to her quarters.

“I...don’t think so,” he said with a laugh. She walked to the replicator and ordered up two synth-ales. 

“Julian, there is something I wanted to warn you about.”

“Oh, lord.”

“I got a duty roster this afternoon. The  _ Defiant _ is ready to be brought back into rotation…

“That’s not great, but not terrible.”

“You’re not scheduled to be on it.”

“Ah,” Julian dropped his head. “I see. I’m...no longer trustworthy enough.”

“You’re the same Julian I’ve always known, and I’d be proud to fight by your side. But Starfleet keeps throwing around the idea of reassigning you.”

“So I have heard,” Julian set his jaw. This is what he was most worried about, being left behind, leaving his friends to their fate when he was the best person available to help them. And for what? Four months of…every time he attempted to regret Garak, he couldn’t do it. But it all seemed like a small amount of time to throw away his whole life and service over.

“I...suppose that is why Sisko wants me in his office bright and early tomorrow... I think I could use something stronger,” he put down his synth ale. “I’ve got a bottle at my place. Put in a curry for me, I’ll be right back. 

It wasn’t too far back to his from Jadzia’s, the federation quarters all basically stacking up. But it was long enough for a few fresh enlisted recruits to spot him. He immediately knew they were following him. The biggest and not-so-brightest of the bunch began to jog to catch up to him.

“Heeyyy, You’re that Cardi-loving doctor everyone is talking about, aren’t you?” A large hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The recruit was probably 19 or 20, and was flanked by three other, shorter and scrawnier enlisted recruits. 

“I also happen to be a combat veteran, the chief medical officer of this station, and the one who may end up saving your sorry life  _ if _ you make it back from the Gamma quadrant,” Julian shot back. He was in no mood to deal with these fools and his patience was worn to the breaking point. 

“You put your traitor hands on me, I don’t care how fucked up I am, I will end you,” the recruit stood over Julian, trying to intimidate him, but Julian just rolled his eyes. He had faced actual death at the hands of soldiers bred for the specific purpose of killing. None of these recruits had seen over 25 years yet. While he was very aware it was four-against-one, he could put some fear of regulations into the group. 

“Noted. I’ll just let you bleed out in my infirmary then. Shall I make a note on your file? Do you know what bleeding to death looks like?” he asked, taking a step forward and forcing the man back, for a second fear flashed in his eyes and Bashir realized he was getting ready to throw a punch. He clumsily threw his fist towards Bashir’s skull, which Bashir caught with ease and twisted with one hand until the crewman was in pain on his knees on the floor. He normally wouldn’t toy with such a dumb, easily dominated young crewman, but he had been taking blows all day and smiling through it. He was just about done. The other three took several steps back and started to as casually as possible wander away from the scene. 

“Because I do. Or perhaps a massive trauma to your skull, not that there’s much in there to damage, but while you’re convulsing and shitting yourself on my table, I’ll be sure to keep my Cardi-loving hands to myself,” he whisper to the crewman while staring directly into his reddening face and tear-filled eyes. “And in the future, should you make it out of your assignment alive, you will address me as Lieutenant or Sir, crewman, or else I’ll make life very difficult for you. Understood?” Julian barked. The crewman hesitated for a moment, but caught his breath long enough to respond.

“Understood.” 

“Understood what?” Bashir asked, twisting his arm a little more.

“Ahhhhh Sir! Understood, Sir!” he responded. Julian released him and straightened up. 

“Grand. Now, off you go,” Julian let his arm go, and the crewman sat crouched in the corridor for a moment cradling it. Julian began walking away but stopped. “What’s your name recruit?” 

“Bonaventure, sir,” he said with just a moment of hesitation. 

“How long have you been in Starfleet, Bonaventure?”

“Six months, sir.” 

“Ah. Well, maybe they cover things differently in basic than at the academy, but I’d advise against throwing punches at superior officers in the future.” Julian hesitated for a moment to turn his back on him, but wasn’t going to let some punk kid stand between him and his bottle. He headed straight to his quarters. It was a perfect day to polish off that scotch. When he walked back to Jadzia’s, the recruits were gone. 

He walked back to hers slowly and put the bottle down. He hadn’t recognized himself at that moment. He had never lost his composure like that before, never hurt a crewman or pulled rank. Never had to physically defend himself against someone in the same uniform.  _ Is this what Garak puts up with, day to day? _

“Well, you certainly look like you could use a drink,” Jadia said, putting down an empty glass. “Are you alright?”

“I have to be on that ship Dax,” he poured himself four fingers and slugged down two. “I can’t sit around and do nothing while you’re risking your life. I can’t be sent away.”

“I think Sisko is willing to fight for you to stay. They know you’re the smartest man in any room you stand-in. He can make the argument you belong on the  _ Defiant _ , even if your name isn’t totally cleared with Starfleet, we know you’re trustworthy.” 

“Would you put in a good word as well?”

“Of course.” 

“I know today was rough, but eventually people  _ will _ move on from this. And I have a plan that will....” she said rubbing his shoulder. He would have been thrilled to be here six years earlier when he first arrived. He poured himself another glass. He wasn’t even tasting the liquor or hearing her voice. All he could see was the pained, terrified look in that crewman’s eyes. Something told him the only way to erase that moment and all the other painful moments was to go back to the front lines, where he could forget in the smoke and explosions and chaos. 

“Julian?”

  
“I’m sorry...I haven’t been myself today,” he thought about telling her, then stopped. She wouldn’t think he was stable enough to go to war if she knew. _ Keeping secrets, getting into physical altercations in dark hallways, Elim certainly is rubbing off on me _ . He poured another. And another, until the half bottle was nearly empty. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's life is going to get worse before it gets better.

He left Jadzia’s feeling closer to nothing at all than himself and sauntered around the habitat ring to Garak’s. He rang the bell but heard nothing. He rang it again, and after a brief pause Garak opened it. 

“Julian. Now this is a nice surprise.”

“Elim…” he gave him a sideways eye at the plastic greeting. It had never occurred to him that coming to Garak’s might be a bad idea. “It’s only a surprise because you haven’t answered my messages all day,” he stepped into his quarters. 

“So sorry, about that...are you drunk?” 

“A little,” Julian said. “I had a bad day.”

“Oh?”

“How do you deal with it? Day in and out. The leers, the people avoiding you...attacking you.”

“Ah remember: I was basically high out of my mind for the first two years you knew me. Did... someone attack you?” Garak asked, his skin darkening. 

“It’s not a problem Elim, they didn’t touch me. Just a small tussle with some enlisted men,” Julian waved it away. 

“I see,” his skin darkened further. 

“You’re mad.”

“Not at all, you handled it yourself, as you said. Though if you happened to catch their names…” 

“Now, now,” Julian said with a smile. It gradually dawned on his drunken mind that Garak’s quarters were in complete disarray. Tables were overturned, shelves were cleared and drawers completely emptied. Some paneling had even been removed, revealing wiring and conduit. This was so counter to the military-like precision he usually kept his quarters. Several hyposprays sat full on an empty shelf and immediately drew his eye. “So, you seem to have been...busy today? What have you been doing” Julian moved to pick up a hypospray. 

“Scouring for listening devices mostly,” Garak tried to keep Julian from reaching the sprays, but he beat him to it. 

“Rigilian plague vaccine? Portan flu vaccine? Pitch A Serum?” he swayed slighted as he held them out with a questioning look on his face. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”

“Julian, I was going to tell you. It’s why I’ve destroyed my quarters looking for listening devices.” 

“Tell me what?”

“I’m leaving Deep Space Nine.”

“I can’t believe this,” Julian whispered, mainly to himself. He drunkenly sat on the corner of the mattress now on the floor and crossed his legs, dropping one of the hyposprays in the process. “Why?”

“I can’t keep doing this to you.”

“Doing what?”

“Ruining your life. The stares, the animosity, it doesn’t go away, you know. Bajor spent decades under the occupation, Star Fleet is losing more and more ships every day at the hands of my people. Your career has already been affected. I am nothing but a liability to you...and quite frankly, you are to me, as well.”

“Jesus. Elim. We haven’t even talked about what’s happened - who set me up? Who really leaked the - ”

“I’m sorry I’m not exactly improving your bad day,” Garak interrupted Julian, exasperated by Julian’s naivety rather than being charmed as usual. “But I can say with utmost certainty that the Obsidian Order has done this and they are coming for you because of me. I told you this is what would happen.” 

Julian was taken aback, he looked down at the packed bags and shook his head.

“I’ve been removed from service on The  _ Defiant _ ,” Julian finally said, meeting Garak’s eyes. “If I can’t get that decision reversed, I’m coming with you.” 

“Julian, no. it’s not just Starfleet. You’ll be in danger no matter where we go. The Order will find me. They’ll use you. It’ll start again. We can’t run forever.”

“But you can?”

“It’s the main pastime of an exile, isn't it?” But you still have a chance to live with your people,” Garak got on his knees to be eye level with Julian. “Please take this gift and go. Have a normal life.”

Julian rested his head in his hands. How had his whole world blown up so spectacularly in such a small amount of time when he had done nothing to deserve it? 

“Normal life?” He said with a bitter laugh, “How? How am I, the augment, supposed to have a  _ normal life _ ? How am I supposed to have a normal life, now that I’ve known you? After everything that has happened?” 

“I wish, Julian, you truly did know me. It might make this easier for you. But lying is in my nature. Please. It’s best for both of us if I just disappear.” 

“It’s not, it’s just not” Julian rested his head on Garak’s shoulder. “I’m not like other humans. I can’t just forget. The time I’ve had with you... ”

“You’re more like them than different, Julian.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Julian scoffed. He kept trying to get angry, but he was just too drunk and too sad at where this conversation was headed. “You wouldn’t have been with just any human. I know that much about you.” 

“You don’t ...want to become like me,” he grasped Julian’s hands. “You’ve had a small taste today of what it’s like.”

  
“I  _ already _ am like you, it’s why you waited six years for me to figure it out. You don’t have to be miserable and alone anymore,” they stopped and just looked at each other. It was Garak’s turn to look surprised, Julian had just stripped him down and let a vulnerability out in the open. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Here?” Garak asked as he motioned around the wrecked room. 

“Yes, here. It won’t take much to put the bed right at least. I can’t be alone tonight.”

Garak somberly put the bed back together, like a man climbing the gallows. Julian pulled off this uniform and had crawled into bed. Garak slid into bed next to him under the sheets, noticeably still clothed and pulled Julian into his arms. Julian felt the seams of his clothing press against him and swallowed hard. He fixed his gaze across the room on the hydrosprays aligned on the shelf, feeling his eyes fill with hot silent tears as he felt himself falling apart. 

“Garak… would you have told me you were leaving? Right?” He could feel Elim tense and the prepared lie on his lips before he stopped him, “Nevermind. I just, today was pretty awful, just be here and we will deal with all this tomorrow, please.”

“Of course,” God, every word Elim said had three different meetings, he could hear his resignation, his grief, and his love. Perhaps a part of Garak wanted to believe he would stay to see Julian in the morning to talk about what had transpired, maybe a part of Julian wanted to believe it too. 

_________

The next morning Julian awoke alone to a living quarters put back into place, more or less. He dressed slowly, achingly, and made his way to the infirmary, trying his best to ignore the long stares and whispers once again. His own medical staff seemed slightly warmer, but the Bajorans wouldn’t acknowledge his presence.  _ Better than be glared at I suppose _ . 1000h and he was facing Sisko for the first time since he was first dragged into his office and questioned. After he had read every communication he had sent in, who knows how far back he went. 

“Doctor. Good morning, please have a seat. I first want to tell you just how sorry I am for how everything was handled the other day.”

“I understand sir. We all have orders to follow.”

“That doesn’t make it right. I allowed a good officer and my friend to be dragged through the mud, and for what? Not a damn thing.” 

“Thank you, for your confidence in me, sir.”

“I am making it a point to push back and protest orders like that in the future. It can be all too easy to lose civil rights in the name of victory over the enemy. Which is why I need to talk to you today,” Sisko picked up a PADD and put it in front of Julian. “Starfleet thinks you should be reassigned immediately somewhere closer to Earth. Dax told me she let you know you’re not on the duty roster for our upcoming mission on the  _ Defiant _ .” 

“She did indeed sir,” he said, adding a defeated nod.

“Well that wasn’t her place. But Dax is going to be Dax. She’s also the one who organized that. Take a look,” Sisko motioned to the PADD. Julian picked it up and read from it.

“We, the undersigned senior officers of  _ The Defiant _ and of the Deep Space Nine space station hereby object to the short-sighted and harmful removal of our Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Lieutenant Julian Bashir, due to erroneous charges made against him. We feel unable to do our duty to its fullest extent without this key member of our command structure. Our trust in him and his loyalty is absolute. We demand that Starfleet reconsider and reinstate Dr. Bashir, a decorated war veteran and celebrated doctor, without delay. Signed, Commander Jadzia Dax, Commander Worf, son of Mogh, Major Kira Nerys...Chief of Operations Miles O’Brien, Station Constable Odo and Captain Benjamin Sisko.” 

“That was sent two days ago to Starfleet intelligence as well as Command. Look at the next page,” Ben smiled. Julian saw an updated duty roster just sent that morning. His name was listed as chief medical officer for the  _ Defiant _ . Bashir put down the PADD and rubbed his face. He was so weary from all the bad news as of late that this felt even more unexpected.  _ Even O’Brien signed it.  _

“Sir. Does this mean…”

“You ship out for Cardassian space in 72 hours, Lieutenant. Start making preparations in the  _ Defiant _ ’s sick bay. And welcome back,” Sisko smiled and warmly shook his hand. 

“Sir...thank you sir. Thank you so much,” he didn’t know what else to say. He was amazed. Finally, something seemed to go right, even if it meant more danger and chaos than ever before. “Everyone...still trusts me?”

“Everyone. You never gave us a reason not to. Nerys especially made noise with both the Bajoran government and Starfleet. You never want to get on a Bajoran woman’s bad side. I can just imagine the reaming she gave them while filing formal complaints against Zhou. You are my chief medical officer for as long as you want to be.”

“I’m honestly surprised by the consensus. Not everyone has been terribly forthcoming.”

“I am likely counted among those, and for that I’m sorry. Deeply so. I will admit, when I first heard about you and Garak, I didn’t understand it either. Honestly I still don’t but I jumped to conclusions. But your personal life is yours, and I am ashamed I or Starfleet ever intruded upon it. And that’s the last I’ll say on the matter. Dismissed” 

Julian walked out of Sisko’s office and into Ops with a slight smile. The dark cloud of Garak’s absence dissipated for a moment and he beamed. Julian made his way over to Jadzia’s station and she met him with a hug. 

“Thank you so much Jadzia.” He said into her hair as she kept him in a crushing, Klingon style embrace.

“Welcome back Julian,” she said with a smile. Kira came up and hugged him next. 

“We’d never go without our doctor. As long as I have a job, you have a job,” she winked at him. Worf merely nodded from across Ops. 

  
“It feels a bit strange, to be so happy to be preparing a sick bay for war, but I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there for all of you,” he grinned. “It’s a huge weight off my shoulders. Thank you, and thank you Worf!” he shouted as he made his way to the lift. “ _ Defiant _ .” 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is back in action while Garak makes his preparations to disappear from DS9. Julian and O'brian bury the hatchet and Julian confronts Garak

The ship was a flurry of activity already. It seemed like an entirely brand new ship and the smell of sealant and hot metal still hung in the air. Every corridor was building into perfect order as crewmen rushed through them, hopefully preparing for every eventuality and carrying cargo to every corner of the  _ Defiant _ . Everything was moving too quickly for Bashir to notice any sideways glances or uncomfortable whispering. This was perfect. Just what he needed, a chance to focus on the task at hand. Things made sense here and he had a clear vision of what needed to be done. 

The sickbay looked as if it had never seen action, and Bashir marveled at it. Last time he was here, used medical supplies were strewn about, blast burns reached up to the ceiling, despite the relative safety of the sickbay consoles, and the floor had been smeared with various colors of blood until it had all become one ugly brown sticky mass at his feet. The memory had haunted him in his quarters at night, but here it filled him with a purposeful determination. He had paged his lead nurse and he arrived shortly with fresh tricorders and hyposprays. Bashir’s heart was beating in his chest as if he was going into battle there and then. 

“There’s a strange power drain in the tricorder bays. I can’t figure it out,” Bashir fiddled with the computer. Without thinking he tapped his comm badge. “Bashir to O’Brien. Could you come down to Sick Bay, we’re having some trouble getting our power readings right.” 

“I’ll be right down,” he responded briskly without hesitation. It was only after his response that Bashir realized this could be an awkward moment. He hadn’t spoken to MIles since that night in front of his quarters. As far as he knew, his best friend still wanted nothing to do with him. But they were so caught up in preparations for war, hopefully, there would be no time to let feelings get in the way. 

“Chief!” Julian greeted O’Brien. He was legitimately excited to see his friend, regardless of his reaction. 

“Doctor,” he responded, heading straight for the tricorder. Julian grabbed his hand first and shook it. 

“Thank you Chief. Your name on that letter to Starfleet...it meant a lot.” 

“I imagine the opinion of a single enlisted man means very little to the top brass,” he laughed. 

“Well, it means a lot to me…”

“Julian,” O’Brien said, taking a panel off the wall. “I may have been a little...harsh the other night. I apologize. I was shocked, and still sore from the...fight.” 

“And now?”

“Now? Honestly, I’m just shocked,” he began tinkering with the power relays in the tricorder bay. “I don’t understand it. At all. How you can fight them, and still...” O’Brien felt hot under the collar, he wasn’t the best at finding the words in sensitive situations especially with this brilliant man who for some reason became his best friend. He didn’t want Julian to know the depths of what he really felt-- that he could barely look him in the eye. That he almost didn’t sign that damn letter, and that it took Jadzia and Kieko on subspace ganging up on him to move him even that inch. He refocused on his work instead.

“If I have lost your friendship, I’ll understand. I will be much poorer for it. But no matter what, it is still an honor and privilege to serve with you.”

“In the meantime, we’ve got important work to do,” he didn’t want to say anything he’d regret. Luckily his new assistant arrived just in time. “Oh good, Bonaventure, over here.” 

“Chief...sir,” he said quietly, casting his eyes to the ground as soon as he saw Julian. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the recruit before, but he looked even younger than last night and just as scared. 

“This poor kid’s first time out and he has the luck to be a runner for Engineering on this ship,” O’Brien shook his head sadly as he switched out tools from the bag Bonaventure was carrying. Runners had the most dangerous jobs on the ship, responsible for responding to crises with needed materials, regardless of the conditions. “There, that should do it. Listen, I would like to get a pint later. We shouldn’t go into the fray with things left unsaid. I’m meeting Keiko’s shuttle at 2200h, want to meet at Quark’s before then?” 

“Of course. Say, 2000h?”

“Ok Julian,” he nodded. It was going to be difficult, but O’Brien felt like he owed it to his old friend to at least hear him out. Honestly, O’Brien admired Julian for fighting so hard to stay on the front line. He could probably have his choice of any cushy desk job in the safety of the Federation, but he was here, on a ship rebuilt two times over with a pitiful sick bay, to put his life on the line to end dominion rule. It made him trust that signature a little more, though he couldn’t be sure he was staying for them, or for that Cardi snake. 

“Crewman,” Julian said with a nod. 

“Sir!” he nervously replied. 

\-------------

Garak packed his shop up slowly with all the lights off and shutters drawn. He had settled up his accounts throughout the day, telling his last few customers he’d reopen after repairs, of course. He considered leaving it all, but he wasn’t a wealthy man and had built up quite the stock, items that might fund a new life somewhere. He’d likely have to operate within the Federation, but he’d still need money. It’s not like he could go to Earth. Luckily he had a good amount saved up for this eventuality. 

He thought it would be a much more hostile event, being chased off the space station. Odo raging, Federation goons hounding him, maybe some interesting phaser fire exchange to really get the blood pumping. Instead, he’d be sneaking out like a thief in the night. 

He knew how to disappear. He always could have, but he stayed to try and curry favor with Cardassia again. That seemed a very distant option indeed. The truth was, he wasn’t a loyal enough Cardassian. Everyone back home knew it. If he was, he’d be back there now or dead from shame. He deserved his exile and his misery, anything less was fleeting. 

He had been awake for over a day now. It took a lot of simple, but tedious work to give the Federation, Dominion and Obsidian Order the slip. He watched the daily traffic ebb and flow, with occasional curious looks towards his shop. The usual cast of semi-suspicious characters, but nothing to worry about. 

He’d arranged a meeting in his backroom in the dead of night, or as dead as it got on the station, with a man who provided fake manifests and digital IDs with loving craftsmanship. Just a properly paid off freighter captain for an extra layer of anonymity and he’d be home free. It would be simple, easy even, if it wasn’t absolutely agonizing. 

He had watched the Promenade all day, and spotted Julian just before he entered Quark’s standing for several long minutes looking into his shop, but not getting too close. He was an elegant figure amongst all the rabel and chaos. Garak found himself admiring his beauty from afar as he had done for years. Strange to think he had possessed Julian for less than half a year but had been so transformed by him. Transformed by six years of friendship, really. He watched as long as he could before Julian entered Quark’s and greeted O’Brien. 

Julian sent him a message hours earlier about rejoining the  _ Defiant.  _ It was almost too perfect, after all Julian hinged his running away with him on his career, now that problem was solved, in a less than satisfying way of course. _ Julian could easily be killed in the next two months, hell, in the next few days.  _ His throat closed up at the thought and once again the walls seemed to close in.  _ Damn this space station and the cursed day I ever set foot on it.  _ Now all he had to do is wait. Soon everything would be in order and Garak could live a long, miserable solitary life knowing he had done everything in his power to save Julian from himself.

Julian was still in harm's way, but he would have done the same at Julian’s age. He couldn’t take Julian with him, and he knew now he wouldn’t want to go even if he could. War makes the young  _ think _ they want a glorious death, when really all war does is make it impossible to live. They just want the painful scars to stop aching and all the better if they can get someone else to stop it. Once again, Julian reminded Garak a little too much of himself. 

He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes fixed on the now empty place where Julian had stood. He would try, somehow, to get used to missing him.

_ \---------- _

Once again, Garak hadn’t responded to him all day. At least preparing the Defiant had taken his mind off of the silence. He came into the bar knowing he wouldn’t be there either, but still scanned for his face at their corner on the second floor balcony. Nothing. He spotted O’Brien by the darts board and smiled. His old friend, just like always. Maybe some normalcy could be repaired between the two. 

“Hi Chief.”

“Hey hey,” he responded. Quark immediately put down their usual order on the bar along with a fistfull of darts. They sat at the bar a while, Miles nursing his beer and staring ahead into space like he always did when he had something on his mind. Julian just sat and waited. He was good at sitting quietly in this noisy bar in particular. He resisted the urge to look on the balcony for Garak again. 

  
  


“Keiko is furious with me,” Miles finally said with a short laugh while taking the last sip from his synth-ale. 

“Oh?”

“She thinks I’m being stupid. She doesn’t even want me to meet her at her shuttle tonight. She told me ‘figure it out with Julian. Apparently, she got wind of my...scuffle at Quark’s.”

“I’m sorry, Chief.”

“Nah, she’s usually right. Being caught up in the war and then you and Garak... It’s brought a lot of ugly things out of me that I thought I had finally put aside,” Miles motioned for the nearest Ferangi waiter to refill his glass. “I don’t know how you can … or what you see in him or…but...” He looked down and mumbled something Julian couldn’t quite make out. 

“What was that?”

“I’m sorry I punched him,” Miles repeated louder.

“Well...sometimes even I have to admit Garak can be quite... punchable,” they laughed a little together. Maybe it would be alright between them?

“It’s easy to fall back into bad habits like living with a head full of hate. Too easy,” Miles said wearily. “Even easier when the kids and Kieko are on Bajor. You never really put that kind of hate behind you though. You always have to keep an eye out for it. I thought… I thought that maybe you needed saving from him or something. Look: This thing between you two, it’s certainly not my favorite part about you. But I overreacted. I’m sorry for that too. That punch wasn’t really about him, or you.” 

“I wish I was relieved to hear you say that, but now I’m worried for you. Do you need some help?”

“Nah, and worried? Ha, don’t be. You know what it’s like,” he said, grabbing the darts off the bar. “You just always have to make sure you’re not backsliding into it. Do things that distract you, you know? Like darts?”

They stayed much later than they thought they would, catching up. Julian let the Chief win at darts a few times, and all the regulars at Quark’s seemed to shine up to Julian a little bit more than they had in the last few days. Everyone on the station liked the Chief, and seeing Miles slapping Julian on the back and arguing overthrowing positions warmed them back up to Julian as well. Or maybe it was the alcohol, either way, it felt like the last few days hadn’t happened at all and before they knew it, Quark was making his Last Call and Julian and Miles were in the last bars of  _ Heart of Oak _ .

“Alright you two, get out of here. I forgot how annoying you hu-mans can be when you’ve had too much,” Quark chastised them as he walked Miles and Julian to the door.

“Oi, barkeep. We’ll go when we’re good and ready.”

“Chief, you said you weren’t going to cause any more trouble in my bar…” 

“We’re going. We’re going...wait a second,” Julian straightened up just inside the door of Quark’s “Who’s that going into Garak’s shop?” 

Quark peaked his head around the corner to see a tall slender figure dressed entirely in black. 

“That Agolian? That’s Vartemi, he’s a smuggler of people and a pretty competent counterfeiter...not that I’ve ever done business with him, of course,” Quark said. 

“He’s really going to do it,” he whispered. The laughter was gone from Julian as the doors to Garak’s shop slid closed behind the Agolian. “He’s really leaving.” Julian wandered back inside Quark’s to a nearby table, much to the proprietor's disappointment. 

“What do you mean? Who’s leaving?” Miles asked. 

“Elim…”

“Who?”

“I mean...Garak. He told me he’s going to leave Deep Space Nine,” Julian said it low enough to keep the information out of Quark’s hearing. He rested his forehead on the table. 

“Ha, and go where exactly? I thought we were stuck with him,” Miles laughed and then saw the grief his friend was trying badly to cover and remembered,  _ Oh, right _ . “Ah, Julian. I’m sorry.”

“I never thought he’d go through with it. Or rather, I was hoping he wouldn’t. I’ve never felt anything like it. I can’t remember anything hurting this much.” 

“You really care about him? Julian, you know he doesn’t deserve you, especially if he leaves now. Useless damn lizard. I have half a mind to-”

“Chief, I don’t need rescuing. Everyone seems to think I’m still the starry-eyed kid I was when I first came to this station and met Garak. Anyway, we have less than 48 hours now. You don’t want to spend it talking to Odo. Go home to Keiko. I’ll see you on the  _ Defiant _ .” 

He watched Miles walk back towards the habitat ring as he found a suitable place to hide. It was 0300h by the time the Agolian left the shop. Julian slipped in behind him as he walked away. The shop was cold, empty and dark. The shelves, the ones still standing anyway, were cracked and bare. Julian could barely see a thing.

“Elim?” Julian called out, 

Garak froze in his almost empty stockroom at the sound of his voice. He carefully put away his counterfeit profiles and stepped into the doorway. Unexpectedly seeing Julian there illuminated just by the Promenade's soft afterhours background lighting made his breath stop in his chest. Raw emotion seized him. Holding those counterfeit travel profiles and falsified travel data had made all of this real. Too real, and all he could think of was Julian. It’s as if he had wished for him to appear, and suddenly there he was.

“Julian, how did you...?”

“Please, don’t go.”

“Julian.”

“I am going to war in 42 hours. In just 36, I’ll be on the Defiant, heading to… who knows what. Don’t argue with me, there’s no time. Just promise me. Promise I’ll have something to come back to,” Julian spoke solemnly, staring directly into Garak’s eyes. 

Julian put his arms around Garak’s neck and pulled him in and kissed him. The astringent sour sting of synthol spread into Garak’s mouth.

“You’re drunk  _ again _ ?”

“Barely, I...Elim, I lo-ove you.” He stumbled over the words, almost stopping halfway through, thinking the better of it. The words hung in the darkness between them. Garak said nothing but embraced Julian tighter. Julian waited for a moment and then stepped away from Garak’s arms. His silence made him angry suddenly. 

“Are you really leaving to protect me or yourself? Because it doesn’t seem like protecting me if you’re not here”

“My well-being is at the very bottom of my list of concerns, I assure you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Julian said, setting his jaw.

“And I don’t blame you, but do know this one truth: You are my mate. What am I without you?”

“But you won’t stay for me?” 

“...”

“I can’t believe this,” Julian shouted, lifting his arms and dropping them in defeat. 

“Keep your voice down,” Garak hissed. “The last thing we need is to draw the attention of security,” he grabbed Julian’s wrist and pulled him back into the storeroom. 

“Don’t you dare-” Julian struggled for a moment to get out of his grasp. 

“Once again, your lack of tact is truly astounding!” Garak whispered. 

“Oh yes, this is all my fault,” Julian responded sarcastically. Garak was still holding his arm. “What are you-” Garak pushed him against one of the bare walls of his storeroom, holding his body against his. Suddenly a shaft of light pierced the darkness just beyond the door, as a security officer swept the dark store looking for the source of the comotion. They stood perfectly still and silent until the light disappeared and the automatic doors whispered shut. 

“Slither off into the night like the snake you are.” Bashir spat, snapping back to life. Garak pressed his body in closer to Bashir, pinning him against the wall. 

“Reptile jokes, doctor?” Garak gasped quietly, “You are angry, what is it that you humans say? You are cute when you are angry.” Bashir shoved with all this strength causing Garak to finally stumble back into a ready stance. It was an automatic motion but it betrayed his mind set - he was scared, ready for anything, a type of hypervigilance that betrayed weakness. Bashir pulled his uniform straight with indignation his face flushed and eyes raged. A beat followed, then Garak’s quiet laughter. He relaxed his posture and re-approached Bashir with his palms up, the traditional Cardassian greeting. 

“ _ My mate _ ,” the universal translator was trash. It garbled the true meaning of what he said, the fathomless depth of which was lost on Julian, all the better. He closed the space between them and touched Bashir’s hands, stopping a moment before intwinning their fingers. “ _ How can I soothe your rage? I would leave you with a calm heart on the eve of your greatness. _ ” Bashir’s face broke into a sly smile, immediately recognizing the quotation as what is celebrated as the single most romantic moment in Cardassian literature.

“The Crimson Shadow, Elim-” Julian’s anger wasn’t completely extinguished, more questions and “what ifs” that hardly mattered in the face of war. 

“Let me calm your heart,” Garak said, kissing Julian’s neck, peeling away the Starfleet uniform and kissing the clavicle hidden beneath. Garak’s heart was thumping in his chest from the physical altercation with Julian, his passion ignited through combat, a very Cardassian trope indeed. He could feel Julian shudder and his warm hands slipped around him as hands touched Julian through thin cloth, feeling his swelling. It was a cheap trick but it always worked - human external genitalia,  _ what a weakness _ . Julian's body responded immediately. They both needed each other badly and Garak ached to make Julian his again but felt like he couldn’t, he couldn’t take him and then leave him. It was the final line he dared not cross to keep his sanity. 

Instead, he slid down to his knees, pulling the uniform open as he went. Julian gasped as Garak took him into his mouth, leaning his head against the cool wall of the nearly empty store room and rolled his head, his eyes closed. 

“Elim- this won’t work.” He ran his fingers through the feather like hair on the back of Garak’s head. “How can I ‘calm my heart’ when all I can think about -” Garak silenced him with his enthusiasm and Julian rolled his head again with a moan. Deftly he peeled off his own top off while he never lost contact with Bashir’s cock. After bringing him to the penultimate moment he stopped and kissed his way back up Julian’s torso and neck, meeting his hot mouth. 

Julian pushed Garak back off of him and into the room once more. Caught him off guard and he stumbled into the lone table noting the darkness burning in Julian’s eyes. 

“This is what you want to do?” He motioned to the bare room around them. Julian was furious, and desperately handsome, the anger and nudity suited him. “Undress.” Julian commanded in a husky voice. It was a word he probably said to patients all day in the infirmary but now it carried with it a mild threat that Garak found arousing. 

Garak obeyed. He was nude in moments and without the trappings of the shop around him, more vulnerable than he had felt in years. Bashir was suddenly beside him and had pulled Garak’s wrists behind his back as he swept his leg. The old Cardassian was slammed chest down on the table. 

“Will this get your damned attention?” He gritted out from a clenched jaw.

“Certainly more than an electronic message will.” Garak snapped back. He struggled half-heartedly hoping to stoke this, well, Cardassian attitude in his human mate. It worked, and Julian corrected Garak firmly with one hand and ran his free hand down Garak’s back until he slid his hand between his legs, finding his prUt had already everted, leaving a tight opening in Garak’s aroused body. Bashir ran his hand from the slick prUt up his ajan, slipping his fingers inside him, teasing him mercilessly. 

“Are you attempting to drag this, ah, out … until you ship out?” Garak was breathless, aching.

“It’s the only way I can be sure you’re still on the station, apparently.” Garak again pretended to put up a struggle when he felt Bashir’s focus shift too far over to pleasure. 

“Really, Doctor,” he growled in false exasperation.

“Shut up, Elim” Julian commanded as he slammed into him with shockingly little regard. Garak gasped, trying desperately to keep quiet in the bare room as Julian drove into him again and again. He struggled hard against the initial thrusts until it moved from shocking, to comfortable, to pleasurable. Their gasps and moans reverberated off the bare walls back to them, surrounding them. Suddenly, Julian stilled and drew in a sharp breath. Garak felt his lover’s cock throb and the air filled with the scent of him. Garak clenched his eyes shut, trying to commit it all to memory. 

After a moment, Julian let Garak up from his submissive position. Garak pushed himself up, stretching his arms out but didn’t have much time to pause before Julian was seeing to his needs. Julian helped Garak move back onto the table, but sitting this time with himself between his knees, and his experienced hand on his prUt. He kissed him hard and continued down Garak’s ridges with vicious bites until he came into Garak came into his hand, with a shudder and another gasp. 

Julian popped up next to Garak on the table and they laid together on the cold table in the dark silence. 

“I’m still angry with you, you know,” Julian said to the ceiling. 

“But less, right?” 

“Damn you.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through cunning sexiness Garak has successfully evaded Julian's instance on a "should I stay or should I go" type of question. The crew heads out to war and Garak has to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of tonights premiere of Little Achievements I wanted to post another chapter.

The day before shipping out was always a blur. While federation ships full of strangers came and left everyday, the  _ Defiant  _ was filled with faces familiar to the whole station. Taking her out was a station-wide event on DS9. Children spent the last day before Duty Call handing flowers tied in colorful strips of fabric to anyone in uniform as a way to honor and decorate their heroes. By the end of the day even Julian had a modest bouquet pinned to his uniform as if he had a buttonhole to decorate. Jadzia had gained enough to fashion herself and Worf flower crowns and several vibrant necklaces. The sight of the sour Klingon bedecked like a maypole at a county fair had given everyone a good laugh throughout the day, at least. Jadzia was always good at breaking tension. Of course, she had lots of practice. 

Julian’s mind was jumping from one scenario to another, racing with bloody possibilities muddled in with the occasional pang of panic over Garak, who had dodged the question again and again. 

  
  


_ Just wait for me to come back, if I do come back. Promise me that much. _

_ -J _

_ Of course you’ll return. You’re a survivor. And I could stay until you return. _

_ -G _

_ I’m not sure which version of you I enjoy less, you as a liar or you being evasive.  _

_ -J _

_ My dear doctor, am I really worth the headaches I continually cause you? _

_ -G _

Julian didn’t respond to that. Anything he said would glance off Garak, only to be used to his own ends, he knew that. Duty Call was 2100h, they’d spend a sleepless night on the ship finalizing everything, double checking and checking again that everything would be in place, and then be gone by 0500. 

  
The day was winding down, and the officers and some of the new recruits met at Quark’s before heading to the airlock to toast to the mission, the crew and each other. Julian looked despondently into his glass, his text communications with Garak sitting on a PADD near his elbow. Time was fading fast, he was afraid he wouldn’t get an answer, let alone the goodbye, that he needed. 

“Everything alright Julian?” Jadzia asked. Miles wasn’t far behind her.  _ They must have been discussing me in the corner,  _ he thought sadly. Going into war, and they were worried about him and his heartache. Not only were they the best of friends, but he was behaving as an utterly selfish fool. 

“Oh, yes. Everything is fine,” he raised his glass. “To the very ends, my friends.” 

“Have you heard from Garak today?” Jadzia asked as she touched her glass to his. 

“Honestly, I’ve heard  _ enough _ from Garak today. Talking to him is like addressing a bloody wall,” he muttered into his glass. 

“Oh, Julian,” Jadzia took his hand and squeezed it. Like everyone else, she was still decked out in her flowers, and she wouldn’t take them off until they were aboard the  _ Defiant _ . She looked angelic, framed in pink and white and yellow clouds of pedals that fell in small showers as she moved. She rubbed his shoulder and he stared down to the bottom of his mug. 

Three chimes sounded over the station computer, letting the crew of the Defiant know that it was time. When the doors to Quark’s slid open the crew was surprised to find several Vedics just outside of Quark’s preparing a procession, Sisko stood with them, wearing a saffron colored sash given to him by the Vedic Assembly that denoted his role as Emissary. He was more than Captain right now, he was the prophet. Major Kira held a sacred flame burning in a brass brazier next to two Vedics in vibrant orange robes. A crowd was gathered and chanting hymns of blessings. 

“What’s all this?” Jadzia asked. 

“Trust me, it wasn’t my idea, but the Bajoran temple officials on the station, despite being neutral in this war, insisted their congregation wanted to see us off.” 

The station children threw flower pedals in front of the procession as the crowd followed, responding to the Vedics’ call for blessings.

“Feels a little like they don’t expect to see us again, doesn’t it?” Miles whispered to Julian. 

“It’s a moving expression of their appreciation...and yes, a bit creepy,” Julian agreed. He managed to glance through the windows of Garak’s shop, but it was dark and empty. Julian closed his eyes and focused on the low singing and the gentle ring of sacred bells to help push down his grief. 

The procession followed them to the airlock, where the Vedics blessed them one more time. The senior staff filed into the airlock last. As the crew turned down the corridor towards the ship they saw Garak standing there with Odo and Kira. Julian instantly forgot all the secrecy and rules they had put in place for their public faces and threw his arms around Garak. Garak momentarily froze in shock and then softened and returned the embrace with a smile. No one had ever seen them together since the news of their relationship was confirmed, and the affection drew many a Starfleet eyebrow northwards. But to Julian, the corridor may as well have been empty. 

“I didn’t think you would-” Julian said when he finally pulled himself away to wipe away a tear. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt the Bajorans’...charming ritual with my presence,” Garak said. “The Major was kind enough to give me this one time permission to see you off.”

“You’re welcome,” Kira said, rolling her eyes at his comment. “Good luck everyone. I know we’ll see you all back soon. Walk with the prophets.” Odo nodded his agreement and followed Kira out the airlock. 

“Well...we won’t uh, intrude,” O’Brien said, slipping past the two. Garak’s wide eyes watched the Chief closely, following him around the tight squeeze but he said nothing. O’Brien scooted around the pair, not turning his back on Garak until he was through the airlock. 

“Stop that,” Julian whispered with a smile. 

“What?” Garak played dumb, but smiled back. 

“Come on Ben, we’ll let Julian be the last onboard this time,” Jadzia beamed at them both of them as she led a still shocked Sisko through the airlock. They were finally alone, and Garak embraced him again and kissed him. 

“I was so worried you weren’t going to see me off”

“Nonsense. I wasn’t going to let you leave without saying goodbye.”’ Garak touched his face. Everything about humans was so soft and almost child-like. They were so open it was unnerving at times. Julian’s large eyes betrayed every emotion. 

“Is it goodbye?”

“My  _ heart _ ” he whispered, holding him close. “No, this is not goodbye.”

“You mean...”

“I can’t do it, I can’t leave you when it would cause you so much pain. Frankly, I find it harder and harder to deny you anything. I will be here  _ when _ you return.” 

The relief on his face was immediate. He fell onto Garak’s chest and let out a small sob.

“Why did you change your mind?” 

“It’s against my better judgement, I assure you.”

“ _ Dr. Bashir. We’re waiting on you _ ,” Sisko announced from his comm badge.

“Uh, yes sir. Sorry sir,” Bashir laughed a little and wiped away another tear. “I’m holding up the whole war now, Elim.”

“The war can wait one more moment,” he kissed Julian deeply. “Good luck. Do your duty, but now that I’ve capitulated to your demands and put both of us in imminent danger just to please you, do me a favor.”

“Whatever you want,” Julian said. Garak unpinned the flowers from Julian’s uniform and slipped them into his pocket. 

“Don’t be a hero.”

\-----------------------------------

  
  


The Defiant shuddered and swayed as phaser fire from a Keldon-class Cardassian warship skimmed across its shields. Julian steadied himself on a console in the infirmary as he struggled from patient to patient. Casualties were coming in faster than he could triage them. His gloved hands were slick with green and red blood and in the flickering lights of emergency life support systems he could barely see what he was doing.

“I need 30 CCs of Trip over here!” he shouted to his assistant over the fray of nurses running two and fro. 

“Damn Cardassians can’t give us a break,” his lead nurse shouted “How-” the Defiant rocked with a direct hit, sending the medical team flying as patients remained stable in low grade status fields. Julian rolled and hit his head on a console, he immediately sprang up only to have blood clouding his vision. 

“Damn,” his sight dipped and swam before him.  _ That’s not good _ . it was a much harder hit than he expected. “Give me that dermal regenerator I-” another massive hit drowned out Julian’s command. 

_ “Medical bay, we have a massive failure in Engineering, we need a team to Upper Main Engineering ASAP. _ ” O’Brien’s voice cracked over the computer in Sick Bay. Julian grabbed his tricorder without a second thought. 

“Hold down Sick Bay, you, with me!” he shouted at the closest nurse. They ran through the corridors, now less pristine than ever. Lights flickered on and off, and the ship seemed like one unending nightmare of glowing fires and disemboweled tubing. A distant explosion rocked the ship slightly, and Julian knew that meant an enemy ship had met its end in the blackness of space. Hopefully that would give them a little breathing room. As they ran Julian tore off his own sleeve and wrapped it around his head wound to keep his blood from his eyes and his potential patients.

The door to Upper Main Engineering was frozen shut, but it took Julian only a moment to push it aside. Blown out equipment lay in blackened heaps alongside crumpled humanoid bodies. Sparks flew out from severed wiring and smoke filled the entrance. Julian and his nurse dug among the wreckage looking for survivors. Seeing the bodies too far gone for him to save sent the first pangs of pain ringing through his head. 

“I have one here! Human male, massive trauma to the chest, I’m barely getting a pulse but it’s there!” 

Julian jumped over a pile of debris to see a familiar face with a caved-in chest and blood running from his nose and mouth. 

“Bonaventure! Stay with me damnit,” Julian shouted. The young man’s eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe. He could hear the blood filling up his lung with every raggy breath he took. He pulled out what amounted to a medical phaser and punctured his chest cavity, allowing the blood to drain and relieving the pressure on his lungs and heart. 

As he worked, he realized the ship had stopped shuddering and everything had gone eerily quiet.  _ Thank God _ , he thought,  _ It looks like we’ll live another day.  _ He wiped the sweat from his brow. Somehow, by another small miracle, after what felt like hours but was only moments, Julian was able to stabilize Bonaventure enough to get him beamed to Sick Bay. His nurse had saved two more enlisted crew, though another three lay dead on the floor. His nurse insisted on staying and treating what turned out to be a deep gash across Julian's forehead before they moved on to the next casualties. By the time all the injured crew were at least stable and after hours of work, Julian was feeling every inch of his concussion. He needed sleep, but without a way to stabilize his brain patterns, he knew it was a bad idea. He got a new uniform jacket and dragged himself to the bridge. 

“Doctor, I thought you’d be resting,” Sisko said. The bridge was still an absolute mess. Everyone looked drained and exhausted. On screen was a field of asteroids slowly rotating around the ship. He realized they were parked on the underside of a particularly large one, almost like a small moon.

“I can’t sleep for a few hours yet. I’ve got a concussion and our Neuro-stabilizer are all in use at the moment ,” he said sadly. A little painkiller kept the ringing in his head at bay, but not entirely gone. “Anyway, I don’t see any of you getting any rest. So...anyone need some medical attention?” Indeed the entire crew was exhausted and filthy and still working feverishly to stabilize the ship. 

“I don’t think so. Unfortunately, we’re probably going to be here a while. The magnetic deposits in this asteroid belt are masking our low energy readings. We won’t be underway again until we’re at least able to limp home.” 

“Sir, the casualty list…”

“Doctor,” he turned to Julian, looking directly into his eyes. “Impeccable work, as always. We took another Keldon-class cruiser and the convoy made it through. We all knew what this job entailed when we took it.” 

“Sir,” he said quietly, his hand reflexively balled into fists. Thirteen dead before he could even see them in Sick Bay, four more on his table, on his, and his captain’s, conscience. “Is there anything I can do here? I was thinking of joining the crews clearing debris if you don’t have any other use for me.”

“Let the enlisted worry about that,” he waved towards the operations terminal. “Get back to Sick Bay, I want the first Neuro-stabilizers available put to work fixing you up. Having you out of action while we’re in enemy territory is unacceptable.” 

He slowly walked back to Sick Bay, using the wall to steady his steps and stopping here and there to patch up some crew members who hadn’t reported injuries yet. Electrocution burns, crushed fingers and bloody lips, just the last few scratches that crew tend to work through until they can’t possibly anymore. After two months, they were a motley crew indeed. Four Keldon-class cruisers down, but the cost was incredibly high. They had to head back at this point because the crew was getting a little thin. 

_ Don’t be a hero.  _ He certainly hadn’t broken his promise. He felt far from heroic, but there was still a sense of satisfaction. He may have not saved everyone, but he did the absolute best he could. He was surprised to see O’Brien in Sick Bay, standing beside Bonaventure and fiddling with some Neuro-stabilizers. 

“Chief! Where did these come from?”

“Happened to spot them in storage a week ago. Captain said we need a few more down here. Apparently, our usually graceful doctor had himself a little spill.”

“What an oaf.”

“Hm. So I found the last two pairs not destroyed by a coolant leak. They’re just about calibrated,” Miles put a pair directly into Julian’s hands. “Alright, up you hop. Time to heal thyself, physician,” O’Brien said, helping the woosy Julian up on to a Sick Bay bed. 

“Ah, what a lifesaver. I owe you,” he fixed them to his temples. 

“How’s my crewmen doing?” O’Brien asked motioning to Bonaventure. 

“Stable, surprisingly. Pretty much broke every rib. It’s incredible his heart survived... a very near run thing.” 

“Well, he’s certainly earned himself a ride home.”

“We all have,” Julian stretched out and fell asleep in his own Sick Bay. 

  
  


Julian awoke in a darkened Sick Bay. He had totally forgotten he fell asleep in his laughably small ‘recovery’ area. The neuro-stabilizers had run out the whole four-hour cycle and he had slept two more. He felt silly for sleeping in his own Sick Bay, but he must have really needed it if his nurses had let him take up a whole bed. He detached the Neuro-stabilizers and looked over to see Bonaventure staring at the ceiling.

“Crewmen, are you alright?” Julian asked. He swung his legs over the bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Walking over to his bed yawning, picking up a nearby tricorder and running his vitals. 

“Sir, I’m alright, sir.” 

“Listen,” Julian said, with a slight eye roll. “You don’t have to keep ‘yes sir’ing me to death. Not in here anyway. In here, I’m your doctor.” Julian upped his pain meds a little. 

“Um. Doctor. I heard what you said...to the Chief. Sir, thank you, for working so hard to save my life after…”

“It’s quite alright crewmen. I was just doing my duty, the same as you.” 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Hell, if I could get up right now,  _ I’d _ kiss you.”

“Well...that won’t be necessary. Now, would you like something to help you sleep? You have a few more days in this bed, best get some rest.”

“Thank you si-doc.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Say Good Morning to Mr. Garak, Molly” Kieko encouraged her daughter as they strolled into Garak’s empty shop.

“Goooood Mooooorning Mr. Garak!” she shouted, her tiny voice echoing off the bare walls. 

“Well good morning to you too Ms. O’Brien and Mrs. O’Brien,” Garak smiled. Cardassians love children, and he was no exception. Every day since Julian left, Garak would spend a few hours fixing up his shop until usually Keiko or even sometimes the Major would come in. They were clearly attempting to “check up on him.” They’d issue misguided invitations to lunch or to a concert or even once to Bajoran services. He’d politely attempt to turn them down, but Kieko was particularly insistent. There weren’t too many families or partners of Starfleet officers on the station, and apparently interacting with him brought her a small comfort in their shared anxiety. That was new, being comforting to someone. He hadn’t had many friends in his life, certainly none on this station, and this daily dance of positive social interactions was becoming familiar, if not always entirely welcome. He always had time for Molly, however and so Keiko had found a way around his carefully built barricades. 

“Tell Mr. Garak what you learned yesterday.”

“There are FOUR planets in the Cardassia system and Cardassia Prime is the home world,” she proudly shouted. 

“Very good my dear. I see that’s one secret we haven’t been able to keep,” he winked at Molly and handed her a Cardassian sweet he had replicated just for her, a reward for being studious. She thanked him by putting her tiny warm palm against his in the traditional Cardassian way he had taught her and popped the candy in her mouth. If O’Brien knew how fond his little family seemed to be of him, it would make his skin crawl. The thought definitely made Garak’s smile a little broader. “I trust you’re well, Mrs. O’Brien?”

“Garak, for the millionth time, call me Kieko. And I’m...as fine as I can be,” she suddenly looked very tired, shifting baby  Kirayoshi, in her arms. “Another sleepless night worrying about Miles. We lost another two ships yesterday. Two whole ships, with all hands lost,” her eyes looked red and glassy, but she took a deep breath and the moment passed. “I’ve had to watch him leave so many times, and it never gets any easier. Anyway, how are you holding up?”

“Oh, keeping busy,” he shrugged. He never went into detail about his own fears, though she always asked. Keiko just smiled sadly and nodded at his response, she had that annoying human skill of reading emotion in even the smallest reaction. 

“They’ll be alright,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself more than Garak. 

“Indeed, they will be,” he said, doing his best to sound convincing. It had only been a week since the Defiant left the station. He knew Kieko would be alright, humans tend to have the ability to put certain uncomfortable truths in the back of their minds. “Compartmentalization” Julian had called it. He envied their selectiveness. Julian’s absence cut through him every moment of the day. At night, he dreamed about him. His protective drive had nowhere to go, no possible outlet, so he seethed in secret. 

“Somedays, it’s like I see Miles around every corner. I get excited for a moment and then have to remember, no, he’s thousands of lightyears away...I’m sorry to take up your time, Garak. 

“Not at all, I enjoy your little visits,” he admitted. They did break up the morning, at least. 

“As always, you know you have a standing invitation to dinner at our quarters.” 

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve such a lovely open invitation. But I’m sorry there’s-”

“Much to be done? I know, I know,” she said softly turning to leave. “Please, take care of yourself. Molly, say thank you to Mr. Garak for the treat.”

“Thank you!” she said, running unsteadily back up to his counter to press her palm against his again.

“Until tomorrow.” 

There wasn’t much to do with the shop closed. He spent most of his time until repairs could be completely obsessed with watching the comings and goings of strangers, keeping a close eye on anything that might stand out. Whoever had planted evidence on him wanted him gone, and now that he wasn’t leaving, they may try something else to reach their goals. One of the nice things about Julian not being on the station, Garak was able to think clearly and observe. He’d stand in his darkened shop for hours at a time. The Bajorans had mostly gone back to ignoring him, especially now that he wasn’t useful. There was nothing strange about Garak drinking alone in Quark’s again at the end of the day. He took up their old corner on the balcony, watching the shifting sea of faces.

“I have a question for you,” Quark said as he dropped off another round of Kanar for one.

“Yes?”

“Are you just going to sit here, get slowly and cryptically drunk while silently eyeballing all of my customers who are just trying to have a good time?” 

“...Yes.”

“Every night?”

“Possibly.”

“I was worried you might say that. And here I thought your hu-man was spending too much time here. At least he knew how to have fun.” 

“Yes, I suppose I’m not nearly as entertaining as Julian,  _ especially _ since the good doctor left the station to actively fight against and kill my own people or potentially be killed by them. My deepest apologies I shall try to put on a happy face,” he said with his trademark good natured fake smile. Quark picked up his latinum and Garak motioned for him to bring another. Sure he wanted to observe, but nursing three Kanar over a night did help soften the edges of his fraying nerves. 

“I certainly hope he comes home soon,” Quark muttered as he walked away.  _ Me too _ , Garak thought as he sipped Kanar. By 0100H, the bar had mostly emptied out. Only the hardened gamblers, people waiting on Quark’s nefarious services and Morn were left. Nothing to worry about here. He took the back way out and headed towards the habitat ring. It was always this point of the evening that everything seemed too much to bear. How many times had they made this same walk together from Quark’s to his quarters? Everywhere he looked on this station, it seemed Julian was there.  _ If he doesn’t come back… _ he almost stumbled just at the thought and reached out against the cold metal wall to steady himself. The memory of him was palpable. He could almost feel Julian’s slender body in his arms, the hot wetness of his mouth on his. These memories hounded him wherever he looked, a brand new form of torture in his own personal prision. 

So he was more than a little surprised to walk into his quarters and find Julian sitting behind his desk, smiling, but not  _ his _ smile. 

He froze in confusion, but the shock was momentary. _That isn’t Julian,_ his reason finally piped up. For one, Julian was on the _Defiant_ somewhere near the Cardassian border. Also, this...thing didn’t smell like Julian. His surprise was immediately replaced with anger and horror at this creature stealing the face of his mate, but he showed neither emotion. His heart started to thunder in his chest and his mouth went dry. 

“Hello, Elim.”

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

“That’s all you have to say? Aren’t you happy to see me?” the fake Julian gave a quiet laugh. It was close, a little too close, but not Julian’s. 

“Happy to see a Founder in my quarters? Absolutely not.”

“Really? Ah well, I figured it might comfort you to see his face again, at least one last time before...well,” he waved his hand as if it was all a forgone conclusion. He stood up slowly and put his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t just his face and voice, it was every mannerism. 

“You really don’t know much about us, do you? What do you want?” 

“Well, Elim, I’m here to impress upon you the importance of sticking to your original plan,” the way the imposter said Garak’s first name with Julian’s voice made him want to jump out of his own skin. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know, if it were up to me, I’d strangle you here and now,” not-Julian said with a smirk, his voice as soft as Julian’s would be telling him an uncomfortable truth. “It would be so easy too. But you seem to still have some usefulness, at least, according to Central Command.”

“Framing Julian, me, it was all a ploy to get me off the station.”

“And it nearly worked.”

“I am so happy to have caused you trouble,” he had wondered if the sloppy attempt to frame him didn’t have a different, more elegant goal in mind. 

“Now, we are going to take a more...direct approach. Central Command seemed to imply that would work best at this point. So sorry Garak. It’s time to pack up your swatches and move on.”

“Or what?” Garak asked definiantly, though he knew the answer. 

“Do you really have to ask that question? Let’s run through a few scenarios shall we? Either you leave this station, or we plant an explosive device in the habitat ring. Or, leave this station or else we capture Major Kira, then Keiko  _ and _ then little Molly and turn them over to Jem'Hadar. I mean really, Elim, you use your imagination, you’re a smart man” there it was again. It sent pain rolling through him to hear that voice use that name. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“You don’t get to make the demands right now,” the changeling held a PADD up for Garak to see. “Do you know what that is?”

“What?”

“The real-time location of the  _ Defiant _ .”

“Indeed, you’ve given my imagination quite a task,” Garak said. 

“You don’t believe me,” the changeling smirked. “That’s fine, I don’t need you to.”

“You think we can’t defy your plans?”

“Oh, you can barely recognize our plans when they’re right there, in front of your faces. Central Command wants you alive and wants this pathetic little outpost intact, but it’s nothing to us,” the changeling took several steps towards Garak jumped back, flattening against the wall, never taking his eyes off the changeling. It laughed it's disconcerting laugh again. His eyes even looked like the real thing when he laughed. “What? You don’t want to give me a kiss goodbye? For old time’s sake?”

Garak said nothing. His fists were in such tight balls they were beginning to ache. He had no weapon nearby, but if he could get to the side table in the bedroom. It would be a huge gamble and likely not worth taking. If this thing wanted to kill him, it would have already done so by now. 

“Have it your way, I was just trying to do you a kindness. This is the last time you’ll ever see this fairly handsome face, after all,” he smiled jovially. “You have three days. I suggest you don’t run out the clock too closely. We’re watching,” the changeling shrugged and pressed two fingers to its wrist. It disappeared in a green haze.

Garak’s knees gave way and he slumped to the floor. For the briefest of moments, when he first saw the changeling, he had wanted so badly to believe it really was Julian. The walls of his quarters seemed to shrink in. He sat trying to slowly breathe in to calm his pounding heart and allowing the adrenaline to subside. He unclenched his hands slowly and rubbed his numb fingers. The sound of his own name spoken by the imposter wouldn’t leave him. The way the real Julian would say it, whether shouted with annoyance or whispered in his ear, wouldn’t come. Just the forced, malicious sneer of the changeling.

“Garak to Security,” he finally choked out. It had only been moments, but it felt like hours. “Intruder alert.” 

While the Bajoran security didn’t always treat Garak with kid gloves, they took the risk of a changeling onboard very seriously. Even though the creature had clearly teleported somewhere they began immediate procedures to test the blood of every single person on the station. But of course they found no evidence of any shapeshifters aboard. 

He had requested to only speak to Odo about what the changeling said. He was disturbed from his rest and arrived in Garak’s quarters groggy.

“Garak? Are you alright” 

“Constable, I’m alright. Good of you to come.”

“Hmph,” he sat down across from Garak. “You told security the changeling appeared up looking like Dr. Bashir?”

“Yes,” he responded robotically. He hadn’t met his eyes yet, but Odo believed him. Garak looked as if he had seen a ghost. 

“What did they say?”

“They had some very pointed threats, towards this station, myself, the  _ Defiant _ , all if I don’t leave immediately.” 

“I see. I would like to post a security detail-”

“Odo, no. I’ve let my...sentimentality cloud my judgement long enough.”

“Is that how Cardassians describe love?” Odo asked. “As a mere sentimentality?” A pained look came over Garak’s face.

“You misunderstand. Cardassians are devoted to their mates,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. ‘Love’ is considered a passing emotion reserved for the young and impressionable. I realize, this is not the way many species regard the emotion.”

“It’s a fascinating view, though you’re right, I don’t understand. Then again, I suppose I am young and impressionable afterall, as far as my people go anyway,” Odo sat down next to Garak. “You don’t have to leave the station. We can protect you.”

“Ha. Any of us thinking we’re safe and protected is a greater lie than I have ever told. Did Julian ever tell you about the Earth author William Shakespeare?” 

“No, he never did,” Odo rolled his eyes, realizing Garak was once again trying to pivot away from the topic at hand. 

“Shakespeare is one of his favorites,” Garak rubbed his still throbbing hands. Being a tailor had taken a toll on his joints, he realized. Staring into the reality of starting over yet again, he suddenly felt much older than ever before. “An author with a keen eye for human psychology--an impressionable and hopelessly romantic species if there ever was one. There’s a term from one of Shakespeare’s great plays about love: star-crossed lovers. it comes from an ancient human belief that the constellation of stars overhead the day you were born determines your fate.”

“Garak, why are you prattling on about ancient human customs? Are you really going to give them exactly what they want? ”

“To be star-crossed, Odo, means to be born under stars with opposing fates. It’s a poetic way of saying...it’s as if your  _ pahs _ are incompatible.’”

“You don’t believe in fate, or  _ pahs _ .”

“No, but I do believe that mine and Julian’s futures are at odds with each other.”

“What are you actually going to do?”

“Nevermind what I’m going to do. It’s important that I make a clean break. I have some ways in which to do that, but...your participation in perhaps obscuring some records would go a long way. Nothing that will clash with your morals too much, I assure you. They can’t know where I’ve gone, or at least, we need to delay them finding out.”

“Of course, we need to keep the Order off your trail.”

“No, no, they don't care where I disappear just that I do it. What I need to do is throw off Starfleet.” 

“Where will you go?” Odo asked, surprised. Garak was attempting to give the intelligence services of the two most powerful players in the alpha quadrant, plus a certain brilliant doctor that would have quite a bit of motivation to find him, the slip, but he clearly had more than just disappearing on his mind. 

“Where no one is looking.” 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian returns to DS9 to find that Garak has left, he's ready to wallow in depression until he is challenged by Starfleet to find Garak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive comments and feedback!!!!

_ Julian, _

_ I am an imperfect man. I made a living out of mistakes and worked hard to keep the depths of that imperfection locked away from you, but I cannot any longer. I have done things even you would not be able to forgive. I am, most likely, doing something unforgivable now. In a lifetime built on mistakes, what I will always regret most of all in my entire sorry existence is that I must break my promise to you. _

_ By the time you read this message, I’ll be long gone and lightyears away from DS9. I have stored some things in the care of Constable Odo that will hopefully explain my reasoning more clearly.  _

_ Maybe someday I’ll be able to wake up and  _ _ want you less than I do now _ _ , but we both know that is never going to come true. I hope you, in your way, can someday find peace with this.  _

_ I tried to protect you from my many enemies, but the truth is I am the one that endangers you most of all. Don’t look for me, the safety of you and the station depends on my total disappearance.  _

_ The man who has a why to live, can withstand any how. If we can manage to survive this, I hope we can find each other again.  _

_ -G _

Julian read Garak’s final message again. And then again and again, until his eyes ached from focusing on each word. It still wasn’t making sense. They had been silently running for most of their mission. Now that they were back in Federation space, a flurry of personal messages were now able to be relayed back to the crew of the  _ Defiant _ . Everyone was catching up with their families and friends, while Julian sat with just 18 entries. 18. He had blathered on for weeks with no one listening on the other end. 

Garak had sent him perfectly normal messages for the two weeks. But then, this one.  _ Something happened.  _ Julian had made it through the fire, again. He has survived the smoke and the blood with death all around him. He was alive. Why did it feel meaningless now? 

He wasn’t sure when, but at some point Garak had become the home that he was fighting for, the thing that made it worthwhile. Garak was his reason. Julian was able to survive the last bloody deployment because Garak had propped him up when he was stumbling. That was now gone, stolen when he wasn’t looking. Just as Julian felt his world crashing down the whole ship shuddered with a loud thud. 

“This is the captain speaking. We are now docked with Deep Space 9,” Julian could hear the cheers coming up from several decks as he sat alone in his bunk room. He hadn’t noticed how long he had been sitting there. Tears momentarily blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. This moment wasn’t about his pain. This was a triumph and he wouldn’t take it away from the crew or his friends. 

The airlock was lined with cheering Bajorans and Starfleet personnel throwing confetti. A list with all of those who were lost was already displayed prominently on a black digital board for everyone leaving the airlock to see. The glorious dead. He spotted Keiko throwing her arms around Miles and kissing him.  _ Good for them _ , he thought. She immediately turned and seemed to be searching the crowds, but Julian didn’t bother stopping. He drifted blankly through the celebration and away from his jubilant crew to the Promenade and faced Garak’s now empty and dark shopfront. 

“Welcome back, Julian,” Kira said quietly as she stepped besides him and hugged him half-heartedly. Julian shoved his hands into his pockets with a pained look on his face. “I know this isn’t what you were hoping to come home to.”

“What happened?” he asked. 

“Come on. We should go into Odo’s office,” she took his arm and led him to the security office. 

  
  


Miles balanced his daughter on his hip as he bent down and kissed his son’s head. The reassuring weight of his child made it real. Back right where he belonged, though for how long he couldn’t say. People streamed by the little family towards the Promenade, shouting and singing bajoran hymns, the Starfleet crew trying their best to keep up. There would be a party at Quark’s for sure after this. Molly was whipping her head around, scanning the crowd. 

“Did Mr. Garak come back with you?”

“What was that?”   
  


“No, Molly, remember we talked about this,” Keiko used her free hand to take her daughter’s. “Mr. Garak had to go away.”

“Whaddya mean ‘Mr. Garak had to go away?’ He promised Julian…” Miles was interrupted by Molly sobbing into his neck. “What the  _ hell _ went on while I was away?”

“We checked in on Garak quite a bit when you all first left,” she said quietly to Miles. “And then one day he was just...gone.” This produced a new round of tears from Molly. Keiko rubbed her back. 

“Huh. Just like that? Well, why is Molly so upset?”

“They were becoming friends and-”

“WHAT,” he shouted. Keiko gave him a pointed look, he met her glare for glare as their daughter whined. “I mean,...what...a good friend you are Molly, to miss him so much. Come on, let’s go to the Promenade, we’ll get you a  jumja stick. ” 

The O’Briens joined the flow of people on to the Promenade where they spotted Dax and Warf standing just outside of the security office, attempting to peek in, but also trying to not make their attempts too obvious. Dax lit up when she saw Miles with his wife and kids. 

“Keiko, it’s so good to see you! Hi Molly!” Jadzia smiled, but Molly just turned her face away into Miles’ chest. 

“Sorry Dax, she’s having a moment,” Keiko said with a sigh. “It’s good to see you too. I’m so glad you are all home. What a relief,” she laughed and hugged Dax. 

“It’s so good to be back, but we’re confused about something. Do you know why Julian went straight to security after he got off the  _ Defiant _ ?” 

“Yeah. Um,” she motioned for Miles to take Molly over by the  jumja stick stand. He just shook his head. He wanted to hear this. “Something happened. A security breach. We were all pulled out of bed to give blood samples and have our quarters scanned. After that Garak left. It was about two weeks into your deployment.”

“Oh no…” Jadzia said. She covered her mouth in shock. 

“Mrs. O’Brien, Chief,” Odo suddenly appeared at the door of security. “Perfect timing, please,” he motioned for them to join. Inside, Julian sat hunched over Odo’s desk, picking through an open security box with a lost look on his face. In the box, were several stacks of memory rods, a PADD and three travel profile chips. An unopened box sat next to it marked as “Deliverable to Molly O’Brien.” 

“Julian,” Miles put a heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” 

“This is for Molly...from Garak,” Julian said, looking up at Miles with red eyes. 

“Hold on sweetie,” Miles said but she was already slipping down from his arms and reaching for it. Julian handed her the box, but Miles intercepted it. “Let me open it for you,” he slid the top back and looked confused. 

“It’s just a...what is that?” He showed Molly what was inside, a white and green sphere. She grabbed it and immediately popped the Cardassian candy into her mouth before Miles could stop her. She held up her palm to Julian to thank him, her cheeks full. He smiled sadly and met her hand with his. She munched on the treat as Keiko corralled her child away from the security desk. Miles head whipped around to demand answers from his wife, but the look on her face pointed out that this was not a good time or place. She could just imagine what he’d say to all the stunningly complex Cardassian orchids now lining the window sills of their quarters, another gift from Garak. 

“Miles, I’m going to take the kids home. I think we’re all ready for a nap,” she said, looking from Julian to her husband. The last thing Miles wanted to do was be apart from his family now when he just got them back, but neither of them could leave Julian like this. 

“Yeah, I’ll be by shortly honey,” he said, resigned as he sat down next to his friend. He put a hand on Julian’s shoulder as she led Molly away. They stayed silent for a moment. 

“Did he, by chance, give you any clue…” Julian asked. Odo just shook his head. “No, I didn’t think he would.” 

“I know his first stop, though you won’t find this in official records. He took a long-haul freighter to Hakton IV, under the name Talf Slaff. He could be anywhere and anyone from there.”

“What did he leave you?” O’Brien asked.

“Uh, it looks like every book we ever read together. A few Cardassian ones I hadn’t gotten to yet, these...fake travel profiles for himself...he apparently didn’t use. A few images, a long letter that doesn’t say much of anything, of course,” he said picking up a PADD and then tossing it back into the box. “This and our correspondences. That’s it. It’s all I have,” Julian glared at the small pile of memories, as if it was the reason Garak was gone and not just the skeleton of their love. He wasn’t even there for the death, and now all he had was the remains. Julian sat frozen in the chair. Miles gathered up the materials into the box and slipped a hand under his arm to help his friend stand up. 

“Julian, come on. Let’s get you home.”  _ You’ll survive this _ . Miles thought. His friend felt too light in his arms, like something had been removed from him.  _ You survived all that, you can survive this.  _ He didn’t understand their relationship, but he knew heartbreak when he saw it. 

Julian stumbled to his feet.. Every thought towards what to do next met a solid blind wall of pain.  _ I have to find him _ , but how? His letters begged him not to come looking for him. Letting him go was the only other option, but again, how? He couldn’t imagine what that would even look like. He suddenly wanted to grab the damn box out from under his friend’s arm and throw it into an airlock, but complete destruction of Garak wouldn’t actually help. 

As they walked out of Security, Jadzia and Worf stepped forward. They all shared a pained look for a moment, and joined the two men walking back to the habitat ring, dodging their celebrating comrades as they went, an oddly solemn procession amidst all the excited chaos. 

The habitat ring was empty. The doors to Julian’s quarters slid open, revealing four very large orchids placed around the room. They weren’t Elim’s favorites, but Julian’s. Their sweet smell had reminded him of England, and the honeysuckle that took over his old school dorm every spring, just before he’d go home for the summer break. It was an off-hand remark he made long ago over a few experimental plants Garak was keeping, but Garak clearly didn’t forget it. He must have been growing them for weeks before he was even scheduled to leave. Julian swallowed hard.  _ Another frustratingly small piece. His absence is inescapable _ . He picked up one of the plants, it’s deep violet and yellow blooms trembling in the low light of his quarters, and threw it into the replicator’s reclamation unit. 

“Help me get rid of these,” he said to no one in particular. 

“Julian, don’t throw them away. I’ll take them,” Jadzia said gently and started shoving the plants into Worf’s arms, the deep violet flowers dancing around his head. 

“Computer, recycle the air in this room. Listen, I need my privacy, friends. Please, go enjoy yourselves,” he began ushering them out. Miles realized he was still holding the box, but Julian was too busy rushing them out to notice. He was going to be rude and selfish, just this once. He wanted to have this breakdown in private. 

_ To think, this place once felt like home.  _

  
  


Julian submitted his request for a leave of absence that night. It had been on Sisko’s desk for three days before the captain finally called him into his office. Julian rolled through Ops late and out of uniform. It was the first time anyone had seen him beside Miles since they had returned to DS9, and he looked terrible. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and a salt and pepper stubble made his gaunt face look much older than his 34 years. 

“Julain...are you…” Jadzia started to ask, but he just walked past her and into Sisko’s office. 

“Sir,” he managed to get out. Even though he was out of uniform, he stood at attention. 

“Dr. Bashir, please,” he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. Julian eased himself down carefully as if he was 100 years older. 

“You know, when I lost my wife, everyone kept asking me how I felt,” Sisko said, meeting Julian’s tired eyes. “As if what I felt wasn’t obvious. I’m not going to do that to you. What I want to ask you is, what are you gonna do about it?”

“Sir?” he asked. 

“This?” he held up a PADD with Julian’s request for a leave of absence. “I can’t accept it. This isn’t a request for leave. It seems an awful lot like a surrender.”

“And what do you expect me to do, exactly?” Julian asked, leaning back in the chair and regarding Sisko with a cold eye. 

“Your duty, Doctor. I assume you want to find Garak, well, so does Starfleet command.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll resign before I help you hound him.” 

“You mistake me doctor. We don’t want to prosecute him. We need his help, which means we need your help.” 

“His  _ help _ ? Starfleet really has some nerve,” Julian said, shaking his head exasperate. “His help with what? You know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Garak is gone, I have no idea where.”

“So these three months of leave aren’t for you to work on finding him?”

“...It’s the truth, sir. I don’t know where he is.”

“But?”

“I have to try,” he admitted.

“Exactly. And you have to admit: finding him would go much faster with the help and resources of Starfleet. Constable Odo has also offered to help as well. This is a mission I leave entirely in your hands to see through as you see fit.”

“He doesn’t want to be found,” Julian said, he was getting frustrated and having trouble controlling the volume of his voice with his commanding officer. “He’s an Obsidian Order-trained expert in disappearing! If he doesn’t want to be found, how am I meant to find him. I’m just a doctor. I don’t know anything about intelligence operations..” 

“You know him better than anyone.”

“I thought I did,” Julian muttered. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his life if necessary looking for Garak. He hadn’t slept in the three days they had returned from their mission trying to figure out the next steps, and now this ludicrous offer just fell into his lap. He didn’t trust it, and he could almost hear Garak congratulating him for his suspicions.

“I think he does want to be found and I think he wants you to find him.” 

“Even if I can find him, what makes you think he’ll help you?”

“This is about nothing less than ending the war, doctor. Garak could be essential in allowing us to break Cardassian encryption codes and allow us to get a leg up on their plans. You are the only man who can make that happen.” 

“Just a few weeks ago, my relationship with Garak made me unworthy of service here in the eyes of Starfleet. Now, he and I may be instrumental in ending the war?” his suspicions grew, but the captain seemed sincere. 

“Doctor, your orders are to find Garak. If you want to resign your commission, well, due to expanded wartime powers, these may not be negotiable orders.”

“So I have no choice but to find him.”

“Basically.”

“God, I need to sleep,” he rubbed his eyes and leaned forward on Sisko’s desk. “I haven’t slept in days.”

“Of course, Dr. Bashir, you do have my sympathies. You and Garak deserve an official apology, and I’ll be sure you get one, as soon as this war is over with,” he said. “Do you understand?”

“Yes...sir.”

“Get some rest and then get in touch with Odo. Feel free to pull any supplies or people you need. This is top priority, oh and you’re officially off rotation at the infirmary. Dismissed.”

  
  


Thirty-six hours later Julian called Miles to his quarters. It was clear Julian had no choice but to take Sisko up on his offer and trust he wouldn’t betray them. Trust was in short supply however. Just the word left a bitter taste in Julian’s mouth. Miles was the only person he could really trust. The only one he had let in to his quarters and into his head over the past week. Miles arrived, carrying the security box that had greeted Julian when they first arrived back on DS9. Just seeing it again made his anger and heartbreak flare. Miles noticed the grimace on his friend's face and put it down between them on the coffee table. Julian opened a bottle of real Irish whiskey dearly purchased from Quark and poured two thick glasses. He was once again working towards just being numb to everything as possible.

“Did you read any of it?” Julian asked. Miles looked momentarily hurt by the accusation.

“No, ‘course not,” Miles set it on the table “Not meant for me.” 

“Well, you’re going to. I’m going to need your help, Chief.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re the only one who knows Earth literature like I do.”

“Ha, I think you overestimate me. I was a shit student of the arts. I don’t know this stuff like you do,” Miles said. He opened the box and slid out a few data rods. “Shakespeare, Vonnegut, Greene, Keats, Tolkien...some more poetry...quite a collection you’ve got here.”

“Elim and I, books were what we bonded over and debated. Even though he didn’t entirely understand Earth fiction, and I found most Cardassian works are an absolute slog.”

“Any particular favorites of his?” Miles had been slowly pulling information out of Julian with small prompts like these. Asking innocent questions led to Julian talking, and that was the goal. Keep Julian talking, keep him out of his own head, if just for a few hours. Their relationship had been so secretive that now that it was seemingly over, Julian suffered also in secret. Letting Julian talk about Garak now was like sucking venom out of a snake bite, Miles thought. If Julian could just have the memory of Garak, without the pain, he could at least start down the road of being his old self again. It seemed to be working too. Miles noticed Julian was wearing a loose wine colored shirt, a gift from Garak. Miles brought one of the Cardassian orchids Garak had given Keiko earlier in the week, and it was now sitting on Julian’s own window sill. Little pieces of Garak were slowly reintegrating into Julian’s life again as comforts of the man he missed rather than reminders of his anger and heartache, though they both still spoke of Garak in the past tense. 

Julian’s trust in Miles of these details and feelings, even after everything, humbled the Chief. He had decided to do better for Julian since getting back to DS9 and he’d do it right there and then, without hesitation. Miles slid out a data rod with ‘ _ Richard III _ \--William Shakespeare’ written on the side and slid the rod into the PADD. It lit up with the text, but with portions underlined and covered in strange writing in the margins. The PADD took a moment to translate the writing into Standard. Garak had marked up the entire text, and Julian had responded to some of the notes. 

“Uh, let’s see. Well, he thought quite highly of Shakespeare,” Julian said.

“Did he?” He showed Julian the marked up PADD. For the first time in since receiving the messages on the  _ Defiant _ , he smiled. 

“Well, that didn’t mean he didn’t have  _ opinions _ . That play was actually his favorite too. ‘ I am determined to prove a villain. And hate the idle pleasures of these days. Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams.’ ”

“Oh yeah, at that line he wrote  _ ‘Finally someone with a clear-eyed view of their situation and a plan of action’ _ ’ in act 1, scene 1. Did he know Gloucester is the villain?” Miles asked. Julian smiled and nodded. “I see. Why do you think the answer is in these?” Miles asked. 

“My theory is that...maybe he used these as a reference of some kind. Even these,” he held up the travel profiles. “They all might mean something. Or nothing. Or maybe something only I would recognize, maybe something from these books”

“And if he used references across his journey…”

“I’d be the only one to know. The only one to recognize it. I know it seems far fetched, but it’s also my only lead. These books and these travel profiles.” 

“I’ll start feeding these into the computer and it can come up with a composite of possible anagrams for the first name Odo gave us. Might take a day or two.” 

“Sure. I’ll read through a few of them, maybe there’s something in our old notes. Something that will jump out at me. I’ll take the Cardassian stuff, at least I am prepared for it.” 

“Then what?”

“Then we, or I, at least, have to do this again but instead of one name, I’d need to comb through hundreds of manifests, trying to follow the faintest of threads. It could take weeks, wherever he went, he didn’t go there directly. And that’s  _ if _ we aren’t chasing our tails,” Julian said with a sigh. He still wasn’t himself, of course, but he looked better after taking something to help him sleep. Plus finding a direction for his energy, even if there was no destination yet, had done him good. Julian pushed up the sleeves and began scanning through character lists. Miles scanned the notes left in this copy of Richard III and found himself chuckling. Garak did have a  _ unique _ way of seeing things, even something like ancient literature. Miles ordered up some pizza from the replicator and they got to work. 

  
  


_ Gloucester loses his nerve on the eve of battle? How disappointing. Finally a character I can identify with and as he is about to achieve everything, with most of his enemies dead, he falters. I wish I could say ‘I can’t believe it’ but his weakness is all too human. _

_ -G _

_ He’s done horrible, villainous things in the name of power, not exactly the kind of individual who is usually venerated in Earth lore.  _

_ -J _

_ Yet another simpering morality play? I really hoped for more from Gloucester.  _

_ -G _

Miles just shook his head. He felt like he was back in school, but now with a weirdly evil literature teacher. Not that he, mechanically inclined since a child, ever thought literature teachers were anything less than evil. He didn’t appreciate homework when he was a kid and he didn’t appreciate it now. Luckily Keiko was more of a reader and would helped him through it. The commentary was his favorite part. Garak really was funny, and clearly just trying to get Julian rilled up and defending himself. Julian usually fell for it too. Miles and Julian met every day for a week pouring over novels and plays before they had their first break. Despite all his efforts, it was Julian who made their first big break. 

_ Falstaff _ . The answer fell into Julian’s lap as he was drifting to sleep after a long night of hitting the books with the Chief. Now that he saw it, it was painfully obvious. The first name that he traveled under  _ was _ an anagram! It was 3 a.m. by the time he figured it out. Falstaff was in Shakespeare’s Henry IV...Hakton IV. Incredible. So were the places or the names going to be the key, or a combination of both? Just the numbers? The clues could be anything. The three names on the remaining fake profiles still meant nothing to him, but this one name stood out. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Garak really was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him.

Julian briefly thought of waking up the Chief, but decided against it. Miles had sacrificed a lot of his time already to Julian’s mission. Hakton IV’s manifests were still being processed by the computer. He hadn’t really made any progress at all really, but at least this was semi proof his process was at least sound. It was some sort of victory. He added locations and repeating numbers to the algorithm. Another few hours and he’d have more leads, more twisting alleys to turn down. Garak definitely didn’t stay in Federation space. Soon, he’d need a ship and some fake credentials of his own. 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've been waiting for. Garak washes up on an uninhabited rock and joins a ragtag group of misfit terrorists while pinning away for Julian. Will he have to pine for long?

Garak stood on the deck of his treehouse with a mug of red leaf tea, watching the pink-purple sky. He wasn’t on watch, after only eight months he was already too important in this resistance cell for such petty concerns, but he still kept a nightly lookout anyway. He told anyone who spotted him from a nearby building or from the hanging walkways that linked the various suspended buildings, that he was just being careful, and that if anyone could spot a Cardassian Keldon-class vessel in the high atmosphere, it’d be him. 

But he wasn’t really watching for enemies. Their camp was too well hidden and frankly, they were not dangerous enough to look for. No one would ever look for them so far out on such a forgettable speck of a planetiod. There was nothing in this whole star system to claim or process, and the Dominion and Cardassians' gaze was directly fixed on the war. They weren’t on the radar, as far as Garak could tell. Why would they come here? All they would find was grey powdery sand, deep wells of spring water surrounded by smokey impact glass, and the absurdly tall black-barked trees. No animals, not even insects and no resources. Nothing else growing in the powder besides the mysterious pin-straight trees, and those only grew in the 10-mile wide dusk band around the star-locked moon. Forty miles east of here was a cold, dead, dark place. Thirty miles to the west had the opposite problem; it broiled non-stop under the energy of its home star. Here the atmosphere scattered just enough heat and light to allow a ring of giants to grow where light and dark met. The ceaseless forest was only broken up by the impact tunnels caused by meteors, some 20 feet deep or more, that led straight down to water. 

He sipped his tea as his roughly hewn home--a Frankenstein’s monster of timbers from this moon and a Starfleet emergency habitat--lightly swayed and creaked in a cold eastern breeze 50 feet above the ground. Garak pulled his thick sweater closer, another rement of his old life, with his eyes locked on the barely visible stars. The house moved with the three trees supporting its weight. Gray dead needles from above sprinkled his small observation deck. 

He wasn’t sure why he was still looking for Julian. He sincerely hoped he was forgetting about him. It had been almost a year, and he wasn’t even totally sure Julian was alive. By his own optimistic observations his own improbable rag-tag group made up of some disaffected Cardassians and the last of the Maquis had a fairly low possibility of success in their own clandestine plans. He was most likely going to be dead soon. Better Julian stay on DS9 then go searching the galaxy for a corpse.

_If_ _Julian were here, he would be able to calculate the likelihood of our deaths in an instant._ _Ha, if only._ Of course, he wanted Julian to find him. It’s why he left his little clues. He’d give anything to see him again, even if for a moment. He pulled a small heater on the deck and turned it on, settling in for a few hours of watching the endlessly dusk skies through the thin needles of the canopy. There wasn’t much else to do at the moment. They were laying low after managing to destroy a Jem’Hadar transport out near Marva IV. At least 850 soldiers dead. Small, but satisfying work. 

Everyone was here for their own reasons, but revenge featured prominently. Anything they could do to make life harder for Dominion-Cardassian forces, they did. As a Cardassian who had lived under Starfleet with intelligence experience, he became a natural leader for the cause, a bridge between the two former enemies. Though taking orders from the likes of him must have seemed like just another indignity for these newly fallen Cardssians to suffer. 

“Good evening Garak,” his Maquis counterpart, a half-human, half-Vulcan named Tamorac, shouted from a nearby platform loud enough for all to hear, his lanky body stretched in a very obvious salute. Garak beckoned for him to cross the walk and come to his deck. 

“Hello Tamorac, please join me,” they were both making very visible efforts to show solidarity and harmony between the two camps, but so far it hadn’t helped warm relations much. But the two sides needed each other. Both Garak and Tamorac knew this, so they pressed on in their attempts to bring everyone together. At least Tamorac could be considered a friend to both Maquis and Cardassians, but then he always tried hard to be everyone’s friend. 

“Did you hear about Jones’ getting into a shoving match with Meset in the mess hall?” Tamorac immediately asked through a forced smile when he was close enough. He warmly grabbed Garak’s hand. 

“I did indeed. I wish you would get your man under control. This is the second time this week,” Garak smiled. They never knew who was watching. Garak had really traded one small town for an even smaller one where everyone openly hated each other but united in hating the Dominion more. This tiny moon and its 50 or so inhabitants had done the impossible; turned Garak into a community leader of both Cardassians and Maquis. The peaceful surroundings stood in stark contrast to the simmering hostility and restlessness of its meager population. At least it was impossible to feel claustrophobic here. 

“I’m trying,” Tamorac sank into the other chair on the small deck. He held his dark hands close to the small heater. His brown eyes sparkled in the glow. “Your people aren’t making it easy.” 

“They never do,” Garak sighed and sat back down into his own chair. “They don’t really trust me either. I’m still proving myself after months and months. I probably always will be.” 

“You were a real asshole on the ol’ homeworld, huh?” Tamorac said. They shared a smile as he pulled a small metal flask out from inside his own thick rough coat. He took a sip and handed it over to Garak.

“A legendary one, in fact,” he poured a little into his tea mug and drank deep. A familiar heat spread through his body. “Mmm. Scotch.”

“That’s right! You know such a strange mix of things about Earth. Booze and Shakespeare and Starfleet protocols.”

“It’s remarkable I don’t get more dinner party invitations,” Garak said. He looked at Tamorac’s care-worn face. He was scarcely older than Garak, but seemed to carry so much more weight. Maybe it was the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled, or the gray streaking his frizzy hair. Something was haunting him behind his honey brown eyes, but then they were haunted, desperate people by definition. It wasn’t always wise to go probing into your fellow terrorists’ pasts but he was always good at getting information from people. Garak rubbed his hands, his knuckles were always aching from the cold these days. “You’re not like any Vulcan I have ever met.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I was raised by my human mother on Earth and never met another Vulcan until arriving at the colony. The only thing Vulcan about me is my green blood and pointy ears.” 

“Not many take their humanity as a compliment.” 

“I can’t hate what I am. Some Earthlings still think anything not-human is superior, but humans are a brave, creative and complicated race, at least, I think.”

“I agree,” Garak admitted. He risked digging a little more. “I had a...good human friend from a place on Earth called England.”

“You had a _human_ friend? Huh. I went to England when I was young. It was cold and rainy and filled with very old buildings. I grew up on the other side of the planet on a large continent in a country called Columbia,” Tamorac said. It was a risk revealing anything about the past, but these small tendrils of trust were sneaking in, as they always did with humans. Tamorac gave Garak a wide, easy smile “Much warmer, much newer buildings. Listen, some of us are talking about going down to the surface and having a bonfire by the water hole. Just to get out of the wind and change the scene a little. Wanna come?”

“Bonfire?’

“A human practice, just sitting around a large fire basically, talking, telling stories. Some of the Cardassians are joining us, if only to get close to the heat.”

“Oh no, you all have a good time though,” humans were so charming. They still found so much comfort in these incredibly primitive rituals. Garak could just imagine their hunter-gatherer ancestors doing the exact same thing in a forest on their homeworld. 

“Staying to watch the skies?”

“You do have Vulcan powers of observation, at least,” Garak said. Tamorac gave a little bow and unscrewed the top of his flask again to put another splash into Garak’s mug. 

“You yourself have said this place is safe. What are you waiting for?”

“Hopefully? No one.” 

“Good night Garak,” Tamorac said, shaking his head. He headed down the narrow walk back the way he came. Tamorac struck an elegant figure against the Fuschia sky as he headed towards the teleporter pad two levels down. Garak admired the outline of his thin form for a moment but shook himself out of it. Tamorac was a brave if personally reckless fighter and a kind broken soul, but a poor replacement for the doctor. The very last thing he needed to do was give in to his physical loneliness in such a precarious position. That wasn’t what hurt the most anyway. All it would do is make his longing for Julian more acute and lead to much worse mistakes. Most days the pain smoldered, but after only a week or so of inaction everything was more acute. He missed Julian with everything in him. 

He sipped his spiked tea and sat in silence, scootching the heater closer and closer until it did no good and the cold became too much. He didn’t think this moon had seasons, but the eastern wind was blowing more and more often. It seemed the cold was here to stay. His small house was really more of a 10x4 shack, with no windows, just a flimsy sliding door that did little to keep the wind out. He had draped some heavy, not to mention expensive, fabric over the doorway to help keep the heat in. In the middle of the back wall sat his tiny heater, giving off a cheerful red glow alongside his narrow cot. His desk with its bomb-making materials sat on the north wall as far from the heater as possible. To the south sat a small emergency replicator and computer unit, jury-rigged to a solar power source they had launched over the trees a few miles closer to the bright side of the moon. Small, but efficient.

Garak pulled his PADD from its charger and slid in _The Unending Sacrifice_ for the millionth time. He could hear laughter as people headed for the surface, a rare sound. Maybe he should have gone. The camaraderie was important, but he didn’t want his presence to put everyone in a sour mood. He had a way of setting both Cardassian and Maquis nerves on edge. His loneliness was already settling in for a long stay. He laid down to read and was soon drifting into sleep with the PADD resting on his chest. Even this high up, he could hear the distant laughs and the gentle string of song sung by his fellow dissidents being carried on the breeze with the spicy scent of wood smoke. 

______________________________________

Hours later he woke with a start. The singing and laughter were gone. There was a low creaking sound just outside of his house. It could have been the wind, until it came again. His instincts had never proven wrong, it’s what kept him alive this long. He stretched out with his awareness slowly and carefully. Someone was out there on his deck trying very hard to not be detected. 

Garak’s disrupter hung by the door, fully charged. He slowly rose and made for the gun, but just as he reached it the door flew open, throwing him back as his thick fabric cover flew to the ground. A figure wrapped in black and hooded with a face mask held a Federation phaser, of all things, pointed directly at Garak. Garak grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight as he braced for a blast that didn’t come. The figure was still, except for their shoulders which jerked up and down with quick, shallow breaths. They were frozen in place. Garak slowly stood up and grinned as the realization hit him. He couldn’t help it. The air felt electric with his unrestrained joy. Garak almost thought he’d see sparks moving through the air as he slowly reached out and eased the phaser from the hyperventilating figure’s hands.

“My _whole-heart_ ,” Garak said in Cardassian. He dropped the phaser. Julian stood still as he pushed back the black hood and face covering. Julian’s large eyes shone in the half light of the forest’s endless dusk. He was locked in a stunned mix of anger and joy, tears running down his face to wet his thick salt and pepper beard. Garak caressed Julian’s face, but Julian pushed him off and immediately threw a punch towards Garak’s jaw, letting out a short sob as he did. Garak deflected the blow with ease, wrapping his arms around him. Julian’s knees gave way and they sank to the floor together. 

“You _bastard_ ,” Julian managed to get out, he weakly hit Garak’s chest and stomach. “You son of-”

“I know, I know,” Garak whispered. He placed a hand on Julian’s head and held him tight against his own throbbing, aching heart. 

“I should have shot you,” he choked out. Garak glanced down at the phaser as he wrapped his arms around Julian. It was set to maximum stun. 

“I fully expected you to,” Garak said. Just outside the door his comrades were flooding the bridges, rushing to his house with weapons in hand and Tamorac in the lead. Finally, someone had noticed the security breach. Garak held up a hand to keep them back. They were twitchy, afraid and restless and now armed and confused. No need to introduce such a dangerous mix to this moment. Tamorac slowed his approach and signalled for the others to stay back. 

“Garak…?” Tamorac cautiously called out. The sound of his lover’s name called out by strangers snapped Julian back to reality. He suddenly remembered that the world outside the two of them existed and dove for the phaser. Garak kicked it and sent it skittering across the floor from Julian’s grasp and caught him. 

“It’s ok! It’s ok. They’re...friends,” he could feel a panicked shiver run through Julian as he grasped for the weapon. _He must have gone through quite the trial to get here_. Garak turned Julian’s face up towards his and said the most obvious thing he could think of. “I have missed you, so much, my everything.” Julian collapsed against Garak. They stayed like that for a few moments before Tamorac came to just outside Garak’s door and holstered his weapon. 

“So, what exactly the fresh hell is going on?” Tamorac asked. Garak ran his fingers through Julian’s hair. Julian’s rage was spent, and now they clung to each other for dear life, daring the other to disappear.

“My human friend. He found me. Where were the guards?” 

“He came all the way out here, the exact middle of nowhere, through Dominion controlled space, for a _friend_ ?” Tamorac asked, but waved it away. Who he was apparently wasn’t important right now. “Meset and Loden didn’t see or smell anything. Apparently this _friend_ of yours carries your scent?”

“That’s no excuse. They’re on first shift of water hauling duty thanks to their carelessness,” Garak muttered. “Please, give us some time, I’ll explain everything later. First, may I borrow your flask?”

Tamorac nodded and reached inside his coat. He handed the warm metal flask to Garak. He turned back to the crowd. The Cardassians were already heading back to their small living areas smirking and rolling their eyes. The Maquis among them were more concerned and it took a lot of persuading to convince them that the new human who suddenly arrived wasn’t a threat to, or possibly in danger from, Garak. 

Garak helped Julian to his feet. It was like picking up a wounded bird. He could feel Julian’s bones protruding through his rough replicated clothes. He guided Julian down gently to the bed, put a pot on his small heater and filled it with water to make tea. He illuminated a few thorium emergency lights, opened the flask still warm from Tamorac’s pocket and handed it to Julian, who took it with shaking hands. 

“I’ve been traveling non-stop for months,” Julian finally said. “Looking for you, paying off informants, doing things I’m not proud of...all to get here.” He motioned around the small room.

“I begged you not to,” he said softly. 

“You knew I would…”

“How did you find _this_ place though?” he had tried to maintain a trail only Julian could follow, but he had truly been off the grid for months now. 

“Your transporter pad. It’s Starfleet, Elim. I figured only Maquis would have Starfleet technology this far out. I knew what system you were in, I’ve just been flying circles in this system for days looking for the pad to pop up.”

“Ah. Well, we’ll be fixing that right away.”

“This place...what is it? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m something of a freelance agent...nothing like being your own boss.”

“Now I am going to shoot you,” Julian said without a hint of levity. 

“I’m a small time terrorist hiding in a shack in the absolute backwater of the Alpha Quadrant, Julian,” Garak motioned around him. “I washed out with some of the most desperate and forgotten people in the galaxy. I commit sabotage, plant bombs on ships, and then hide out in this tiny shack for weeks at a time wishing I was with you on that god-forsaken space station.” 

“Playing at being a hero against your own advice,” Julian said. He threw his head back and finished the flask in one long draught. The sight of his exposed throat and clavicle made Garak’s head swim with need for a moment. He turned away and took a deep breath. It was increasingly difficult to keep his hands off of Julian. “You broke me, Elim. Why did you bother putting me back together in the first place?” Julian said softly after a moment. 

“You know why,” Garak took the empty flask from Julian’s hand. “I know you’re angry, but I could truly die from happiness just from hearing the sound of your voice.” Julian reached up and took Garak’s hand. He kissed his palm. Garak kneeled next to Julian and turned his face towards his. Finally, their lips met. 

“I am unbelievably angry at you,” Julian whispered, weakly trying to push Garak away. “There really is a 50/50 chance that I may still shoot you.” 

“But you’ll turn down the setting a little, right?” Garak smiled. Julian’s anger was completely unsustainable. That smile, that damned sly smile broke through the wall. He was so deeply relieved to find Garak, and alive. 

“I thought you were captured, or worse,” his voice was shaking now. “To find you running this outfit? And other Cardassians right along with you? I’m incredibly confused.”

“I’m not entirely sure it matters right now my dear.” Garak took a chance and leaned forward, kissing the pit of Julian’s throat, he breathed him in, finding his scent so deliciously familiar despite clearly having let grooming fall to the wayside. He kissed up his clavicle to his neck, feeling Julian’s warm pulse quicken just below his lips as he did so, and nuzzled into his hair. The physical relief was incredible and unlike anything Garak had ever experienced. The weight he had grown so used to carrying was lifted for the first time since arriving on this horrid rock. He was flooded with real warmth for the first time since leaving DS9. 

“Stop. Garak, it does matter, this is how you got away from me the first time!” Bashir said, pulling away and standing up with more than a little struggle, catching himself on a low table to haul his bones vertically. “Do you really think I’d let you fuck me and leave me again, “for my own good?” 

“I didn’t want to leave! Julian, what I told you in the airlock before you left was true, but then the station and your life were directly threatened. That has not changed, the people hunting us are still hunting us -but I am truly happy and overwhelmed to see you here, now, in this moment.” Garak stood up and took Julian’s hands into his own, pressing their palms together.

“Something has changed, apparently as soon as you left.” Julian pulled his hand away and fished a PADD out of a bag that was neatly hidden beneath his gear. 

“Ah, so this is why the Dominion and the Order suddenly wanted me off the station so badly.” Garak almost got lost in the mission specs but he glanced up to see the still shell shocked and scruffy doctor, now flushed with liquor, standing awkwardly in his damned tree house and put the PADD down. “And why you worked so hard to find me.” 

“I would’ve gone after you without Starfleet’s approval and assistance. They had their agenda and it happened to help mine.” Garak nodded appreciatively, Starfleet Lt. Dr. Bashir was finally starting to wise up.

“None of this matters tonight. Living on the fringes like this, it puts things in perspective.” Garak said solemnly, approaching Julian again. “I want you Julian.” 

“You know Elim, I thought of so many potential things I’d say to you if I found you again.” Julian blinked away a couple of tears and pressed his eyes with his finger tips. “But for the life of me, I can’t think of any of them right now.” He laughed with bitter exhaustion. 

“Just hearing you say my name-” Garak closed his eyes, remembering the Dominion agent in his quarters for a moment before banishing the memory. He reached out to Julian’s shoulders. “May I?” 

Julian nodded and Garak pushed his hands under the heavy fabric of Julian’s long coat and shrugged it off of his shoulders. Underneath, Julian was in a full tactical body suit resistant to extreme cold, heat, blades, phasers, just about anything. It wouldn’t save you against a sustained assault but was designed to give you time to roll away or kick a weapon out of enemy hands. It contoured to Julian’s noticeably thinner, ropier frame and Garak ran his hands across the rough fabric until finally finding the seam and peeled Julian free. 

Garak was surprised at how much weight Julian had lost. A thin wine colored scar marked his shoulder and seemed to travel further under his shirt to his chest. A deep wound that had not seen a dermal regenerator quickly enough. Seeing the scar sent shame and anger through Garak but he set them aside for now. He orbited Julian, letting his hand run up and down his body, across his abdomen feeling sharp hip bones and the regular bumps of ribs with skin pulled tight over his frame. Garak said nothing but turned up the heater in the room and pulled Julian down into the, until now, overly soft and large bedding. 

Garak wrapped himself around Julian, stripping clothing off madly to soak in his warmth as much as possible, but he could feel Julian resisting. 

“What do you need Julian?” He whispered, kissing the nape of his neck. Julian pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked frankly at Garak.

“I need you...to promise me... that this is it. We face whatever is out there, together. You won’t leave me again.” 

“Julian,” He turned his face to his. “I swear it.” 

“Or I will hunt you down, and I will shoot you. And not on the stun setting.” Julian said in a deadpan voice that ran a slight chill through Garak. Julian’s sparkling eyes were serious now, boring into Garak. He had proved he could do it, this was not an idle threat. 

“Uh- Understood my dear.” 

Julian pushed Garak down and pulled the gray blanket from the end of the bed over them. Even with the heater, they could see their breath in the ever increasing cold eastern wind, the addition of Julian’s trapped body heat was very welcome. He got on top of Garak, straddling him and fell across his body, kissing up his chest until he reached Garak’s sensitive neck ridges where he delivered ever increasingly hard bites until Garak writhed and bucked under him. He stopped, sitting up to look into the face of his Cardassian completely helpless under the influence of arousal. His ridges were darkening and his normally brilliant blue and wide reptilian eyes were half lidded and smokey. He was deep in the throws of hormonal and chemical surges that Julian only partially understood. 

He honestly was unsure how he would react if he finally found Garak alive. But despite the hundreds of light years crossed, despite the dirty deals and desperate actions it took to find him, Julian felt some of his energy had returned. He felt renewed to be so close to Garak again. The soul-crushing anxiety born from the boredom, interrupted with the occasional staccato of danger or violence over the last few months, disappeared. He was also just as excited to physically reconnect as Garak was. Julian gasped when Garak’s hand finally found a way between them and rubbed the head of his cock with his thumb.

“Elim,” Julian whispered as he climbed off of Garak and out of reach. He removed the rest of his clothing, and settled between Garak’s legs. The blanket trapped Julian’s heat and pheromones well and Garak had the sensation of being surrounded by him, overtaken. It was nearly overwhelming after months of aching loneliness. Julian began to run his tongue up and down Garak’s increasingly slick ajan, passing over the tip of his prUt. After a short time Julian only had spread the slit open gently with one hand for him to fully evert. Cardassian’s appreciated pressure more than friction so Julian slowly moved up and down Garak’s prUt with his mouth, keeping the pressure high by lightly biting down on the inside of his lips evenly. Garak mewled and sighed, lightly bucking his hips before Julian gently lifted Garak and pressed his own aching erection slowly into him. 

They stopped, locked together, staring into one another’s eyes. Without breaking their gaze Julian began to move in Garak and it seemed that the fabric of space and time had begun to move with them. The lyrics to an old Earth song that Julian adored began to make sense, _the holy dark was moving too._

And here he was, moving in him, with him, as unbelievable as it was. Julian had traveled innumerable light years just to see him again. Garak, dangerously, began to believe maybe he was worthy of Julian’s love.

Julian’s arms shook as he held himself above Garak and it was clear it took all his energy to keep this up in his weakened state. Garak wrapped his arms around Julian pulling him down into an embrace before rolling him onto his back. Now Garak straddled him and began moving his hips. Julian sat up the best he could and clutched Garak around his body, holding on for dear life, while kissing his chest and throat. His breath quickened and suddenly a loud gasp escaped his human’s lips and Garak felt warmth flood him. Garak came as well and collapsed back with Julian - still locked in their embrace. 

They lay there it seemed for hours kissing and talking in low voices, touching each other’s faces and hands, folding new information in with the old. The new scar did indeed lead from Julian’s shoulder onto his chest where it surprisingly exploded into a firework of thin lines above Julian’s heart. Garak traced the lines and looked at Julian expectantly, who just waved his concern away. 

“An attempt on my life by a half Romulan, half Klingon whom I displeased on some dusty trading post near the neutral zone.” 

“Bisma,” Garak nodded, “I boarded a shuttle there and skipped rocks until meeting up with the rebels here.”

“It took me long enough to figure that one out. I ended up there twice.” Julian yawned and rested his head on Garak’s chest, finally exhausted, finally safe from the journey. 

“How did you find me from there?”

“You should tell your people not to bargain so hard with the locals,” Julian said, drifting off to sleep. “They were more than willing to talk about the strange, rude group of humans and Cardassians who wouldn’t pay half a strip for 5 kilos of Purna fruit.”

While vaguely annoyed at the sloppiness of his comrades, he had to admit, he was incredibly proud of Julain. What was to come next he couldn’t say but like Garak he had also earned some perspective from his experiences and frankly, couldn’t seem to care about anything or anyone beyond this moment. 

They slept deeply for hours, still holding each other close. Time was pointless in a place with no day and no night. Garak groggily rose a few hours later and dressed in what he though of as his simple terrorist clothing. He’d let Julian sleep as long as he needed to. A quiet knocking came shortly after 0900h. Garak stepped out on to his deck, closing the door quietly behind him. Tamorac was standing there with his hands on his hips, giving Garak a questioning look in the half light. 

  
  


  
  



	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak has to face the terrorist cell with whom he has been living for the last few months and answer for a Federation Leutient falling out of the sky. Suspicion grows as Julian is not able to provide classified information to the terrorist...obviously. They finally get some alone time and have some happy moments on this strange but beautiful moon before disaster strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter! My sister and I are bringing this fucker home. 
> 
> Also my sister made a spotify playlist for the fic: 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Xta6WAtqrlmSRIrFATgJo?si=rmOCY61JRIas-2skVbMoDg

“So...what the fuck, Garak?” he asked, matter of factly, crossing his arms.

“Where to begin.”

“How about the part where you led your Starfleet bootlicker fuck boy straight to our goddamn hideout,” he growled. Tamorac regretted his words almost immediately, he had spent enough time around Cardassians to know when he had pushed things a little too far. Garak’s skin flushed darkly in anger and Tamorac tried to walk it back. “What the hell, _hermano_?”

“He’s my mate,” Garak said. He’d said these words out loud before, but this seemed more of a formal declaration than ever before. Nothing could pull him away now. Now that he had felt that separation and returned from it. He wasn’t going back, not ever. “I had to leave him behind when I went on the run. He’s smarter than your average human and managed to find me.” 

“I know all about him, Garak. Dr. Julian Subatoi Bashir, right? Augment and Chief medical officer on DS9 and the ship The Defiant? My Starfleet intel contact told me about him when you picked up with us. Your Dr. Bashir has top security clearances. If he’s not here to defect, you know what that looks like?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Our people are scared. A federation agent just falls out of the sky-”

“He’s just a simple doctor.”

“-But most of all they are pissed,” Tamorac continued, eyes burning. “They think this is a ploy to get them all arrested by Starfleet or you’re going to betray us to Central Command.”

“That’s absurd. We are hardly worth the trouble.”

“No Garak, we weren’t worth the trouble - until you showed up and started taking down whole Jem'hadar ships.” He could feel Tamorac’s trust slipping away and accusation creeping into his voice which he dropped into a throaty whisper. “Did you lead him here? Have you been communicating? How? How did he find us?” 

“If you must know it was as easy as asking some local merchants about the stingy terrorists who showed up recently in the sector,” he hissed at Tamorac, annoyed. “A very stupid, very risky move by our very own stupid people. He’s here because he was looking for me. No other reason.”

“No? It had nothing to do with classified orders from Starfleet?” Tamorac held up a PADD. “Orders he’s been under for months now, to find you. Why would they do that Garak?” 

“You apparently have known more about this than I...and for quite some time,” Garak said. He began walking Tamorac away from his shack and reconsidering his status as a friend. There really wasn’t anywhere to have this conversation privately and he didn’t want to wake Julian. Everyone and anyone could listen in this quiet place, a double-edged sword. “You didn’t share this with me?” he hissed. 

“You’re saying you didn’t know? I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Well, believe it,” Garak turned from Tamorac and grit his teeth. He was working overtime to find a convenient, defensible lie, but he was knocked off-kilter by this news. Tamorac knew Julian was looking for him, this whole time. Garak figured Julian would try but hard evidence could have - well there are infinite possibilities in every universe. His anger was flaring again. He focused on the steady trees while keeping an eye on the door of his little shack, his protective nature prickling under the skin, making mistakes much more likely. If any of these absolutely unremarkable creatures thought they were going to separate them now, after all this time, they were wrong. “I’m supposed to be in charge of our intelligence, yet you keep me in the dark.”

“Of course I’m not going to give you intelligence on yourself. That is not what this is about--.”

“Have you suspected me as a spy this whole time?”

“I suspected you of nothing!” Tamorac said, covering his face in frustration. “But the whole camp is up in arms now! And I am trying my best to…” Tamorac looked for the words.

“To what?”

“To save your hide, Garak!” he whispered. “I just don’t want anything...bad to happen to you. We’ve gone a lot farther and done a lot more with you in this organization than I ever thought possible. You turned our suicide missions into something we could come back from, be proud of,” he placed a hand on Garak’s shoulder. “I’m not your enemy. But the scared people around here need real answers.”

“Starfleet wants him to help end the war.” Both Garak and Tamorac startled to hear Julian’s voice as he opened the door to the shack. He had found a pair of Garak’s lounge pants from his days on the station which looked giant on him. His bare chest and its spider web scar showed under his coat and his feet had been hastily shoved into boots. He immediately looked relieved when he saw Garak. 

_Damn, he must’ve thought I left him again._

“Dr. Bashir, I’m Tamorac,” Tamorac took two lanky strides on the narrow path to cover the distance between them and extended his hand. Garak followed close behind. Julian cautiously accepted it, returning Tamorac’s hard stare. “Glad to meet you.”

“Doesn’t sound like it, but I certainly understand.” They withdrew their hands after a very Earthling male two-pump handshake.

“How is Garak meant to end the war?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much more than that, it’s-” Julian said before being cut off by Tamorac. 

“Classified, yeah, how did you get here? Where is your ship and how did you evade our sensors?”

“That’s also-”

“Classified, great, no that’s just great.” Tamorac crossed his arms and was growing more impatient, more aggressive. “How long do we have until Starfleet or whoever comes in here, hm?” Tamorac nearly whispered this to avoid causing a riot. 

“No one is coming, no one knows where I am. Everything had to be done in extreme secrecy to evade the Order. What can I do that will prove to you I am not a threat?” Julian said lifting his hands in the pale purple light. 

“Give me your weapon.” Tamorac answered immediately, “To start, also your comm and any medical equipment you brought with you. I also want the location of your fucking ship - and keep in mind, Starfleet is a long ways away so I’d be a little more liberal with the information if I were you.” 

Julian was furious but he hid it well. He just shifted his glance to Garak who nodded. Julian immediately handed his Starfleet comm and his charged and active phaser over to Tamorac, fishing them from the pockets of his coat. 

“Nice.” He said sarcastically as he turned the phaser off. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone else get their hands on it. I’m going to check my sources and I don’t want you, either of you, leaving until I can figure out what is really going on here.” 

“Fine, while you’re working on that you can tell these sources of yours of how I saved your life and the lives of your crew on Keitsle Prime, or the success of our bombing campaigns against Central Command using my explosives,” Garak responded indignantly. 

“Garak, please." He held up a hand to halt the litany of things that Garak had done to endear himself to their cell, all of which were now cast in a suspicious light. "I’ve known you for less than a year. I thought I had you figured out but - knowing the little I know about you I should have been more cautious. Fucking Obsidian Order," Tamorac muttered the last part shaking his head, "Look we all have our histories here. I need to verify yours. I hate to say this, but...logically, no one on this moon can be trusted.” 

Well, Garak couldn’t argue with that. 

“You are costing lives by keeping us here.” Julian suddenly spoke up shrugging off their furtive whispering. Tamorac turned with surprised eyes to the half-naked doctor. “Every minute we are away from DS9 not working to stop the Dominion the more good people die. We are losing this war Tamorac, and Garak may be key to ending it, that’s what you want isn’t in?” 

“Medical supplies doctor, and the location of your ship.” Tamorac nodded. “Then we will talk. I don’t immediately jump at your command, Starfleet. These will be enough for now.” He held up the badge and comm and walked away. Garak could see the eyes and faces of their small audience among the pine needles turning away. Tamorac had made his point and the two would be safe for the rest of the morning at least.

They returned to his treehouse in silence and Garak set the replicator to making two Starfleet rations for Julian and a Cardassian one for himself. He wasn’t going to stop feeding this man until he felt whole in his arms again. He then went about making his usual red leaf tea.

“Where’s your hiding place? Somewhere no one else knows?” Julian asked. Garak turned around to see him holding another phaser, a Federation tricorder, and a Bajoran ship communicator. Garak smiled and took them from Julian’s hands. He went to his explosives bench and tapped a small hidden part of the wooden floor. When he depressed it a square of the floor popped out, revealing a small space with Elim's own stash of falsified identities, latnium, and weapons, including a large impressive Cardassian knife.

“We can’t trust him with this,” Julian said. 

“I’m aware my dear. I’m something of a spy myself too, you know.”

“Honestly, you seem to trust him a bit more than you should, I don’t like handing over my things to Maquis.” Julian rummaged his pack until he found some emergency energy cells and plugged them into the replicator. He entered in his sizes and let the little low-powered machine set to work creating him some fresh clothes. 

“The Maquis are no more. They’ve long been extinguished as an organization.”

“He’s still gathering intel from someone inside of Starfleet, that sounds pretty much like the Maquis to me,” he sat down on the edge of the bed. Garak handed him the plain box the emergency ration came in. He was delighted with newly suspicious Julian. Garak smiled and reached for the chair by the desk. He pulled it close to join Julian. 

“So good of you to join me for lunch, doctor,” Garak said with enthusiasm as he picked up his own meal. Julian looked up surprised and his warm smile slowly spread across his face, despite himself and their predicament. There he is, Garak thought. 

“Happy to be here. Well, happy to be with you anyway,” he took a bite and sighed. He had spent a two week stretch living on emergency rations during his search for Garak. He generally stayed away from them when he could and they didn’t bring back fond memories now, but he was ravenously hungry and dove in for a second bite. “It is an eerily beautiful place, that we need to leave as soon as possible.” He said around his food, “And I don’t dare attempt any subspace transmissions, they’ll be looking for that.” 

“Tamorac has a good head on his shoulders, balanced and fair, he will let us go. He also knows that the longer you're here the more likely it is that Starfleet will start looking for you if they haven’t already.”

“You have a surprising sense of loyalty to these people, Elim.” Julian said with an appreciative nod and drank his tea. “Have you come around on sentimentality?”

“They fight back as well as they can and are to be admired for it.” He said with a nod, just short of admitting sentimentality. But as much as Julian had been changed by him, he had been changed by Julian. Placing a little trust in others wasn’t always the death sentence he had assumed. Not too much trust, of course. “This place is probably considered too compromised to continue now.”

“We could run.” Julian suggested hopefully into his mug.

“We could not. Your Bajoran fighter won’t stand a chance against the Jem'hadar or Cardassian ships we captured,” Garak still couldn’t keep his eyes off of Julian. It was unreal that he was just sitting before him, eating much too fast, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Once you’re done, I want to show you something, but first we’ll need to stop by and visit my fellow Cardassians and have a...discussion.”

Garak gathered a few supplies, as well as Julian’s contraband, in a bag and slung it and his disruptor over his shoulder as Julian dressed in the simple clothing Federation the replicator was able to manage. He looked like a hard-working colonizer, more akin to working fields than tricorders. Over that he put on his black coat. Garak was annoyed with himself for not having something for Julian to wear. He had secretly worked on multiple pieces of clothing for Julian but had to leave much of it on the station and he had lost much of his old stores over the past few months as barter pieces. 

The air was cool when they left Garak’s shack. The unwavering pink sky was clear and punctuated with faint stars. Garak led Julian down two narrow walkways and a small spiral staircase to a transporter only big enough for two people at most. Garak double-checked and found Tamorac had changed his rights to the transporter so he could no longer beam off-world. Interesting. He set it to send them to another small transporter on a round platform, with several walkways stretching out like spokes on a wheel. The walkways led to other shacks, smaller than even Garak’s. Thin, stoney-faced Cardassian appeared in the doorways surrounding the transporter. 

“Dear friends,” Garak announced, “It has been brought to my attention that your faith in me is currently on the decline due to the arrival of my mate, despite all we’ve been through together. I offer you this simple choice: You may doubt my honesty, but if you doubt my loyalty, please put forth your option for a new leader,” Garak smiled and stayed still for a moment, his finger on his weapon’s trigger, infamous cold Cardassian leadership on full display. As he guessed no one moved. “Someone you trust more to lead you into the most dangerous places. Who among you, would you have first in line to face the Jem’hadar? To plant explosives on their ships? To take the worst danger on themselves? To do what I have done?” he looked around at the 10 or 12 Cardassians watching him. No one moved and no one betrayed their thoughts or emotions. All he had to do was buy time. “No? Well then, perhaps we understand each other after all. Oh and, one more thing: I find you have done anything to put this man in danger, you will know nothing but immediate death. Now, Tamorac is investigating everything that has happened, and I will adhere to whatever route he deems best. You all know, however, I am nothing if not a bitter enemy of both the Dominion and Central Command.”

Garak didn’t dare turn his back on the quiet crowd, but reached over to the small display screen and hit the button on their transporter to send them to the ground. 

Julian and Garak stepped off the platform.The powder of the moon’s surface sank over their feet. The tree's true enormity was evident from this perspective. They were identical, all 5 meters in diameter at their base, and their straight dark branches high above fractured the bright pink sky like broken glass. Julian craned his neck upwards, astonished. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“It gets better,” Garak reached out and took Julian’s hand. They quietly began walking among the giants, slipping occasionally on the impossibly soft gray dust which filled Julian’s boots. The trees reminded him of the old cathedrals he visited as a child in France. The epic size and strange angles of this place, along with the complete quiet, produced the same amount of reverence. 

“That was rather...intense back there,” Julian finally said after they had walked for a few minutes. “How did you know that no one would challenge you?”

“Those people are all farmers turned fighters. Most importantly, they’re all related. No one was going to volunteer their husband or wife or child to do the kind of work I’m capable of doing. They’d be killed instantly, they know that. They’re simple people, you’ve only met the higher echolons of Cardassian society before, while they are mostly from our servant class, but they are not stupid. First and foremost, they’re survivors. Much like myself. I also don’t plan on being here very much longer.”

“You…you called me your ‘mate’ to those Cardassians, just now.” Julian couldn’t repress a smile even if it was hidden under his bushy facial hair. 

“Of course,” Garak said with a shrug. He tried to play down the moment, but he had been wondering how Julian would react to such a pronouncement. It was something he had never brought up before, how seriously he felt for Julian. It was a discussion that had slipped between the cracks of fighting a war and surviving. 

“You’ve never called me that before to anyone else.” Julian said as he pulled off his coat, the weather was getting warmer.

“I have,” he admitted. “Though...I suppose...not directly to you. You and I have on occasion had moments lost in translation, as it were. Those Cardassian understand the full weight of my meaning.” 

“You were worried I’d react poorly to your feelings for me,” Julian said, shaking his head and seeing right through him. “You thought you’d scare me away perhaps?” 

“I suppose so,” Garak said, stopping and turning towards Julian. He had seen through his lies yet again. It was quickly becoming pointless to be anything less than honest with him. 

“I never thought you were anything but completely confident in well...everything you do.” 

“Why thank you, I am an excellent liar,” he smiled and squeezed Julian’s hand and brought it to his lips. “You don’t “scare away” easily. No matter how hard I try, it seems.” 

“That’s always been your greatest weakness, Elim, underestimating me.” Julian replied with a sly smile. His smiles were coming easier and easier. 

They reached the edge of a ridge where the land sloped away dramatically. The sky had become more of peach than the dusky pink/purple as they walked closer to the bright side of the moon. The water found in the craters wouldn’t stand a chance in the full glare of the sun but they weren’t quite near the treeline yet. Below them in a small clearing just inside the habitable zone where the ceaseless tree cover broke, was a scattering of pools of clear water surrounded by impact glass sheets glittering under the bright orange sky. 

“Absolutely extraordinary,” Julian whispered to himself.

“I thought a warm bath and a shave would be appreciated.” Garak smiled, he removed a small replicated shaving kit, towel, and some simple soap from his bag. 

“The water is safe?” Julian asked, surprised. 

“There isn’t much on this planet but dust, water and trees. Yes it’s safe.” Or tree, Garak thought as he looked back at the seemingly endless landscape of massive gray tree trunks, all practically identical. He had a theory, that they were all one organism. One tree hugging the habitable zone with shoots that spread all the way around the moon. The water seemed to be filtered through whatever it was this organism was and on this side of the habitable zone the pools were warm rather than the cold, bruised colored pools the camp used for water on the other side. 

Garak turned around and saw Julian leaving a trail of clothing and gray dust clouds. He arrived at the pool hopping on one foot while pulling a boot off and dipped a toe to check the temperature. He slipped off the edge of the smoke-colored plates of impact glass into the clear and warm water, the stillness of the pools reflecting the orange sky.

“That’s all you had to say,” he sighed as he melted into the water. Garak tossed him the bar of soap and started to slip off his own rough clothing. 

“We should be left alone. No one else knows about this place,” he slipped in alongside Julian leaving the shaving kit within reach. He kissed Julian’s neck. The sharp smell of soap mixed with the steam as he took the bar from Julian and rubbed it along his back. He wanted to hold every part of him in his memory as if the freckles on his back were a map to the man he loved. Garak wrapped his arms around Julian’s slippery body and buried his face in his wet hair and breathed him in. He turned Julian around and began washing his neck and shoulders and in his scruffy beard. Julian’s large hazel eyes seemed to burn in the golden light as he watched Garak. Julian allowed his whole body to relax for the first time in months. He rested his forehead on Garak’s shoulder allowing the water to hold him buoyant against Garak’s body and let out a contented sigh. Julian wrapped his arms around Garak’s neck and kissed him, but Garak playfully pushed him back. 

“Let’s uh, take care of that,” Garak pointed at Julian’s beard 

“What? You don’t like it?” Julian ran his fingers through his scruff. “I think it makes me look tough and distinguished.” 

“Yes, well, when you are clean-shaven you look far more trustworthy, we could probably use some of that boyish Starfleet charm right about now.” Garak moved Julian by the hips to a nearby underwater ledge. 

“Do you prefer me clean-shaven?” He was looking up at him with pure joy, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“I do. You just don’t look like yourself covered in all of this...hair. You humans really sprout a terrific amount of the stuff. You’d think Earth was freezing,” he reached behind Julian and grabbed a pair of scissors from the shaving kit and carefully began trimming down Julian’s thick beard.

Garak delighted in caring for him in this small way, using the tips of his fingers to carefully tilt and move Julian’s head, gently holding the thick gray and black hairs between his fingers. He wasn’t the only one enjoying the exercise. Julian slowly closed his eyes. He had devoted his whole life to the service of others but had never been good at being taken care of, a common enough problem for doctors. He wondered if Garak knew what it meant to him, to let go like this. Probably. Their relationship started because Julian didn’t know how to take care of himself, after all. Garak was so gentle and tender, Julian could barely remember the time when he considered the man cold-blooded, in every sense of the word. 

Garak tossed the trimmed hair over the side of the pool into the wind and used the white chunk of soap to develop a thick lather which he began working it into the short stubble of Julian’s whiskers. He grabbed the razor and methodically and carefully repeated the process he had watched Julian perform in the mirror in his quarters. Garak gently swiped away the hair on his cheeks and chin. He tilted Julian’s chin up towards the sky with his fingertips and began to shave his neck. He was focused on every detail, but just resting his hand on his throat stirred Garak’s passion for Julian. He breathed in quickly and hazarded a few kisses on his throat. Julian groaned in appreciation but Garak stopped to focus on shaving and not slicing his mate. 

Julian leaned against the ledge and let another contented sigh escape, his eyes shut the entire time Garak worked. He thought about the cathedrals again. Maybe this was the feeling of salvation the ancient Earth religions always insisted existed. 

“All done. Very sharp if I say so myself,” Garak ran his hand from Julian’s cheek and down his neck and chest. Julian smiled and splashed his face and ran his own hands appreciatively over the clean skin. 

“Good work darling, didn’t miss a spot.” He continued to run his hand over his face and smiled at him, he stretched his arms out along the pool’s rocky edge. “I feel something similar to my old self.” 

Garak couldn’t contain himself anymore and kissed Julian, which was far more pleasant without the wiry hair in the way. He thrilled at the feeling of his smooth warm skin. Their kissing became more passionate and Garak moved along his jaw, kissing down his neck to the collar bone. He needed to claim him fully, mark him as his again after so long apart and so much trauma. He thought back to their last night on DS9 together in his empty storeroom when he couldn’t force his body to lie to his mate. That was in the past and he was his to claim once again. Garak kissed the scar on his chest and carded his hand through Julian’s hair, pulling his head back gently and opening up his chest, throat, and shoulders to Garak’s hungry eyes. 

He slipped his finger tips inside of his ajan, his own hydrophobic lubricant coating him and pushed Julian’s knees apart. Julian just hummed with appreciation and opened his legs further, his beatific smile growing a little wider until Julian pressed his heels together behind Garak’s back. Garak roughly stroked Julian’s cock, until he was moaning in low appreciation. He clung to Garak’s sensitive ridges, forehead pressed on chufa. 

The second time Garak dipped into his ajan, he used two fingers to press inside Julian. He drew in a small short breath and held on tighter to Garak’s ridges, gripping them hard as the Cardassian opened him up slowly, lovingly. Moments later they were locked together making love and Julian gasping with every thrust. 

“My heart, my love,” Garak kept repeating into his ear between nuzzles into his hair and kisses on his neck. He could feel the electricity of Julian’s approaching climax with each thrust. Just as his body ratcheted around his prUt at the penultimate moment, he bit down into Julian’s scarred shoulder. He never bit Julian as hard as he had the first night they were together but he did now, tasting salt and iron as they pulsed together in the perpetual dawn. 

He held Julian up in his arms for a long time after they were spent. Julian let go of his lover’s ridges and simply wrapped his arms around his neck and laid his head on his shoulder. Content to be held, he dropped his legs when Garak withdrew. Garak pushed off from the pool wall and trod water for both of them. 

“Mmm, don’t let go.” Julian smiled, kicking his feet for a moment. 

“Never again.” Garak whispered, kissing his human’s neck and wounded shoulder.   
  
After soaking in the pool they climbed out and started heading back. They slowly made their way back to the transporter. They saw no one on the platform in the trees near Garak’s shack. Julian wasn’t sure where they were in relation to the pools of the camps. which only had one more larger shack connected via walkways. That must be Tamorac’s, Julian surmised. Light poured out of the cracks in the flimsy construction of his cabin, on the other side of the transporter. Suddenly, the air blew cold through the trees again.

“Did you move here so both Cardassians and humans would be equally miserable?” Julian asked as he turned up his thick collar to the chilly blast. 

“We moved here because it was supposed to be so off the beaten trail as to basically be invisible,” Garak said. “No fooling you of course--” Garak suddenly stopped 10 feet from his own door.

“What?” 

“I was saying, you’re far too clever, my dear doctor,” Garak said, trying to cover the break-in normal conversation cadence, but motioned for Julian to stay back and down. He slid his disruptor from his shoulder and walked quickly, avoiding the creaking places in the planks on the deck. He flattened himself against the outside wall beside the door and brought his disruptor up. One deep breath and he flung open the door. 

From the darkness, the discharge of a weapon flashed, Garak side-stepped and narrowly missed the shot but felt pain suddenly shoot down his shoulder and back. _Two. There’s two in here._ He gasped out and fired in the direction of the dark figure lurking in front of him. Another pain, deeper this time, accompanied by a strong impact nearly toppled him. The angry face of a hissing, young Cardassian man filled his vision for a moment. Garak stumbled sideways and back, throwing off his attacker and aiming his disruptor in his direction unleashing an uneven spray of fire. Garak didn't know if his shot found it's target, his wild shooting sliced through the flimsy walls of the shack and down across his workbench. 

A sudden flash, and Garak flew through the air away from the shack as the bolt from the disrupter hit the cordite. The explosion tossed Julian from his crouched spot throwing him against one of the tree trunks. Air rushed back into the space emptied by the force of the explosion, feeding the blaze. When he came to he saw Garak had pulled himself upright in front of what was a puddle of his blood. Julian got on his hands and knees, crawling towards Garak, his ears still ringing from the blast. He watched as Garak looked down and realized the handle of the blade was buried practically to the hilt in his chest and saw the familiar shudder of shock pass over his lover's face.

 _How strange_ , was the last thought Garak had before succumbing to darkness.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak is badly injured after an attack by two Cardassians on the secret moon of a group of former Maquis and Cardassian terrorists. Julian rushes to save his life and they begin the long journey home to DS9 and the road to recovery for Garak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be followed by some top-notch domestic fluff / O'Brien and Cardassian feels as well as a vulnerable, limping Garak. Yummy. 
> 
> This chapter is much shorter than the others, it's to be assumed that the events of the war playout but with a semi-injured and recovering Garak. 
> 
> Again, thanks for all your support. Love this fandom!

Julian shook off the blast and was on his feet. He burst into a run, closing the distance between them in moments. Tamorac came bolting after the first explosion and was not far behind. Everything seemed to be happening too fast but in slow motion at the same time. Julian fell to his knees and scrambled next to Garak’s body as he was losing consciousness and struggling to breathe.

“Fuck, Elim!” Julian cried out. The chaotic light danced across Garak’s now pale and still face. A dark pit opened up in Julian’s stomach. He had none of his tools on him, he realized. He heard Tamorac thundering up the walk behind them. 

“ _ Dios mio _ ” he whispered. “What the hell happened?" The color drained from Tamorac's face as he looked around at the blood, bits of debris and burning material snowed down around them. 

“Communicator, now!” Julian’s hand shot out to Tamorac. 

“Alright, but I’m coming with you,” Tamorac immediately handed it over without waiting for Julian’s response. 

“Computer, three to beam directly to Sick Bay.”

Julian’s Bajoran ship was running dark in orbit around the moon, staying low and out of sight of the larger, faster ships. Julian immediately commanded the ship back to life, revealing a spartan vessel, with only enough room for a three-person crew. The sickbay was laughably small, no more than an enlarged alcove on the side of the main walkway which led back to the mess and crew quarters. It came with one tiny pull-out table that could be detached and used as a stretcher, and a very small but vital complement of equipment. What it did have, was a full-sized Federation replicator and plenty of power. Julian slammed open the bed to secure it in place. Tamorac grabbed Garak’s shoulders and helped Julian hoist his unconscious body up onto the bare plastic board. 

“You’re going to be my nurse. Just do exactly as I say and everything will be fine, understand?” Julian asked. Tamorac’s eyes were wide. 

“I don’t know anything about…”

“I need your help to save his life. You can do this” Julian was trying his best to speak calmly and reassuringly, but his mind was racing with fear. Every second counted now. “First, I need you to hold down right here while I scan the wound. We need to make sure we can pull the blade out safely,” Julian took Tamorac’s hand and placed it down. Blood bubbled up as he pressed down and Tamorac let out a surprised gasp, then gritted his teeth. Julian quickly surveyed the damage.  _ Fuck _ .

“I’m going to have to operate immediately,” he rushed over to a sanitizer and swung open a small case with emergency surgery scrubs. He pulled on a cap and mask. His hands were shaking.  _ Focus on the work _ .  _ Do whatever you can to ignore who is bleeding out on the table and keep your eye on the why.  _ He slid on scrubs and motioned for Tamorac to do the same, taking over and putting pressure on Garak’s severed artery.  **_Calm. Down._ ** He commanded himself. Slowly his hands grew still.

“Computer, 10, no, 20 ccs tripocenophrine, 10 ccs of Lyathcaine,  suture webbing, organic serantypes, four pints of Cardassian Universal and two cardiac stabilizers,” he called out. The needed materials appeared almost instantly in the large replicator. 

Tamorac was a nervous and clumsy nurse, but he did alright at least in handing things to Julian and replicating anything he needed in the moment. The devastation was complete, the blast had damaged almost all of Garak’s internal organs in some fashion, but Julian first focused on the knife wounds. Had the blade sticking out of Garak’s chest been just a few centimeters to the left...well, Julian didn’t need or want to consider that. He would have still fought for Garak’s life, but it would have been a losing battle in his primitive sickbay. The black jagged blade lay forgotten on the instruments table covered in brown blood, dropped without a thought after the delicate operation of retrieving it from Garak’s collapsed lung. 

It wasn’t clear he would be able to stabilize Garak until three hours and another pint and a half of replicated Cardassian blood, when Jullian, finally, successfully stitched up the jagged veins and stopped the bleeding. The moment arrived when he finally was able to finally pry his aching hand from around the micro-suturing gun. He gripped the edge of the flimsy table and let out a slow exhale and dropped his head over Garak’s still open chest cavity. He wasn’t sure how long he had been holding his breath and every muscle ached. It had been hours. With the nicked artery patched, it was just a matter of closing him up and starting Garak on a cocktail of drugs to support his damaged heart and kidneys and...every other organ in descending order of importance. He’d also need to place a heavy-duty tissue regenerator over some of Garak’s burns. Luckily, he already needed to keep him under for a day or two to allow the respiratory regenerators to do their work as well. What he could really use was a proper medical bay, but those were lightyears away. It may not be quick or comfortable, but Garak would survive under Julian’s careful eye.

“Doc…?” Tamorac asked nervously. 

“It’s alright...it seems he will be alright,” Julian’s voice cracked a little, his hands trembling. He tried to wave the emotion away like he had thousands of times before in front of an operating table, but the unspoken fears and doubts crashed over him before he could brace for the impact. His hands shook slightly again as he slumped against the wall and rolled his sore head and shoulders, letting his a few grateful tears trace their path down his exhausted face. He took another shaky breath in again to calm his nerves enough to return to Garak’s body.  _ He sure is lucky I read up on Cardassian anatomy. _

“Thank you, for your help.” Julian said with a nod. 

“Don’t thank me. I owe this man a very large debt, one I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay. Helping you save his life was the least I could do,” Tamorac said, handing a dermal regenerator to Julian. “Listen...I’m sorry. I didn’t think...it seemed suspicious to me. I mean, who could blame me, right? A Starfleet officer and a Cardassian.”

“You are not alone in your...misgivings, believe me,” Julian began closing up Garak’s chest. “It’s been a long road. You did attempt to warn us this would happen, at least.”

“I should have done more to stop this from happening,” Tamorac said. He folded a blanket into a makeshift pillow and slipped it underneath Garak’s head. Julian pretended not to notice and gave Garak another injection of drugs to keep him asleep. Garak’s past abuse of his Order-installed implant meant he needed to be monitored and drugged every few hours to keep him completely out. “We are not going to survive this. The whole moon is going to be in an uproar when I get back. My only hope is to get whoever is left out of there,” Tamorac tugged down his surgical mask once the incision was closed. He looked down at his pale and unconscious comrade. “Can Garak really end this war?”

“He may be the only person who can,” Julian said softly. He placed a gloved hand over the incision spot, now disappearing under the effects of the dermal regeneration. His heart was still beating, still fighting after everything. “Did you see who attacked us?”

“That’s Maset’s blade. Probably him and Kambar. Garak never trusted either of them, I guess for a good reason.” 

“Never trusted them?”

“He thought they might be more than they said they were...” 

“Order?” Julian asked. Tamorac just nodded. 

“That seems more likely than ever."

"They followed him all the way out here- he was right, they were hunting him."

"You two should probably get as far away from here as possible.” And go where? Back to DS9, back to being in the Order's and the Founder's striking distance. Star Fleet would have to try to keep Garak alive but they were more in danger than ever.

“You’re letting us go after all?” Julian asked. 

“I’ll tell them all Garak is dead. If the Order is still watching, that’ll buy you some time. I’ll focus everyone on getting the hell off of this moon. You won’t be able to find us again, and no one will go looking for you. Fair?”

“I have no reason to look for you. I have everything I need right here.”

“Garak is one of the bravest men I have ever known. I’m sorry I probably won’t see him again in this life,” Tamorac said sadly as he put his hand on Garak’s. “Goodbye, my friend,” Julian was surprised that the gesture set his teeth on edge. His own desire to protect Garak was suddenly paramount, or maybe it was just old-fashioned and very human jealousy. Whatever it was, Julian began to usher him towards the transporter.

“Good luck doctor,”

“Good luck to you too,” he said quickly and waved him away. He needed to get back to his patient, after all, but he suddenly remembered Tamorac’s flask. He followed Tamorac into the mess and grabbed Garak’s bag, forgotten next to the transporter, and fished it out and offered it to him. 

“No, you keep it, maybe it’ll help Garak remember the little guy when he’s off saving the Alpha Quadrant.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Ship.  _ Garak’s mind alerted him before he fully dropped back into conscientiousness.  _ On a ship, and can’t move. Pain.  _ His eyes slowly opened, it felt like the first time in days. His vision wouldn’t focus. All he knew is that he felt like absolute hell, but he was alive. A good sign, if there ever was one. The engines were going flat out, creating a background drone with the occasional creak that could turn maddening if he made the mistake of listening for too long. He attempted to stretch out with his awareness, but everything was muted under the drugs. It was dark and his vision was dim, but it was all familiar enough... _ Bajoran _ ? A small part of his former self attempted to panic at the thought, but the drugs resisted and pushed the fear down. His more rational self chimed in:  _ No, no, the occupation has been over for years now. _

Garak had always hated Bajoran ships, and made a practice of never traveling on them.  _ Small _ . He swallowed hard. All he could remember at that moment was how cramped they were. He struggled for a shallow breath. Even reaching for breath was difficult. His sight swam for a moment, it was taking all of his effort to keep awake. He lifted his head and suddenly something let out a soft but more insistent beep. Some piece of Federation technology by the sounds of it. Medical technology?  _ Wait… _

“Julian?” he tried to shout, but only managed a whisper. His limbs were too heavy to lift. The lights in the small sick bay slowly began to strengthen into a twilight. He was on a soft reclining bed, probably from the captain’s quarters. Julian must have dragged it into the main part of the ship. He attempted to call out again, but Julian’s name stuck in his throat. He dropped his head from exhaustion, but the soft alarm continued. It only stopped after a Julian shaped blur appeared standing over him in the half-light. He momentarily came into focus. Julian’s tired but happy face had a dusting of stubbly hair on his chin, hadn’t he just shaved though? 

“Elim, I’m here,” Julian said as he wrapped his warm hand around his. 

“I...I can’t... see.”

“It’s alright, your vision should return slowly. It’s an effect of the drugs, the concussion and just generally being out as long as you have.” 

“How long?”

“Almost three days,” Julian reassuringly squeezed his hand. 

  
“...happened?” Garak choked out. 

“You were attacked by two Cardassians. You were stabbed, and there was an explosion.”

“...Stupid...wreckless…” 

“Well, maybe. But we’re here now and the important thing is you’re going to be alright. Here,” he held a straw to Garak’s lips and let him drink a few sips of water for the first time in days. “Keep that up and you’ll be off these IVs in no time.”

“Doctor...voice,” Garak said slightly annoyed. He was still struggling to fill his healing lungs with air. Julian slipped a mask over Garak’s nose to deliver more oxygen. 

“Indeed I am using my ‘doctor voice.’ You’d better get used to it. For the next few days at least I’ll still be, primarily, your doctor, whether you like it or not,” he began adjusting the tubes feeding Garak a steady stream of fluids and drugs. Focusing on his recovery had kept Julian from breaking down at the sight of Garak’s broken body. Garak wasn’t his horribly injured lover, Garak was his patient, a patient who was getting better every day. Being a doctor with a capital D had helped keep him together during these all-too-quiet past few days. “You’ve suffered a great deal of trauma and while you are stable, I can’t do much more with these limited facilities. So, lots of feel-good drugs and rest for you until we can get you proper treatment, especially for your shattered leg.” Julian caressed his face. 

“Tamorac…?” Garak asked, letting his head fall back on the pillow. Julian took this opportunity to shine a light directly into Garak’s eyes. He grunted in surprise and turned away. 

“Pupils look good!” he said, trying to cover his annoyance with an overly cheerful tone. “I think I’ll increase your dostramine by 10 ccs. It won’t help straighten out your vision, but it should make breathing more comfortable. The...others took off after the explosion. At least, that was Tamorac’s plan.”

“Explosion?…” Garak shook his head.

“Maybe it’s best you try not to remember, right now,” Julian said softly as he prepared another hypospray. He pressed the sedative to Garak’s throat “We can talk about it when you’re stronger.” 

“Julian…I...” his eyes still wouldn’t focus, so he closed them. As soon as he did, sleep began to reclaim him. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he sank down into a chair next to his bed. “We’ll be home soon.” 


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak is still healing a week into their return home when he is forced to go to a dinner party at the O'brien's to celebrate their return. Everyone gets drunk (conversation lubricant) and Julian makes an announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is teeth rotting fluff - it's so fluff it's FLOOF. We put our boys through the wringer though - they deserve some happy times. 
> 
> THIS IS THE END BITCHES! Leave us a nice comment - we really loved writing it and having fans really made us feel amazing. I hope we will return soon with more thrilling adventures.

**Epilogue**

“It’ll be good for you to get out of here for a little while,” Julian shouted from the bathroom. Garak sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the light metal frame still encased around his knee and thigh. He was starting to realize there may be no getting out of this. 

“I really have a tremendous amount of work to do...”

“Elim,” Julian gave Garak his best stop-bullshitting look. “I haven’t had much time to spend with Miles and Keiko over the last, oh I don’t know, year or so? You owe me at least one. Besides, awkward dinners with your mate’s friends is a very important human mating ritual.”

“Is there any way I can get out of this?”

“Not really. You’ve put them off twice now and Keiko was very insistent. Anyway, you need to move around a bit. It’ll get your strength up to actually use that leg a little, not to mention it’ll do you good to have a little change of scenery,” Julian came into the bedroom, wearing an outfit Garak had made just for him during his time under Julian's care --a suit in dark green with a lighter green shirt underneath, much closer to the muted styles of Earth which Julian preferred, but it still set off the green in his eyes. He’d dress Julian in green every day if it was up to him. 

“Change of scenery? The living quarters all look alike.” Garak smoldered but then a realization hit him. "You're going to ask him tonight aren't you?" 

“Here,” he shoved the cane in Garak’s hand. "That's the plan, and I'm a bit nervous." 

"I don't think you have that much to worry about." He knocked the cane impatiently on the floor. “I really hate for the Bajorans to see me like this.” Garak muttered under his breath.

“The Bajorans? Stop being so foolish. Come on, we’ll do it together,” he said with a soft, reassuring smile that absolutely called Garak’s bluff. 

“Fine,” he pretended to suffer mightily as he hauled himself up using the cane. He took a peek at Julian’s face and could instantly tell he wasn’t impressed by his performance.

“Stop faking, you tired old man,” 

“Now Julian…” 

“We’ll get you a lovely heating lamp and a nice list of all your dead enemies for you to peruse when we get back,” Julian smiled at Garak as he led the way out the door. 

They had been back only a week, and Garak hadn’t left their quarters much for anything at all. A few visits to the Sick Bay for equipment that couldn’t easily be transported, but that was it. Everything seemed the same, yet there was something different. Something he couldn’t quite figure out. As they walked, slowly at first, they passed a few Bajoran security guards who grinned and greeted them both. A Starfleet engineer did the same. Julian just smiled and nodded, but Garak couldn’t help but do a double-take. 

“What the hell was that?” Garak asked incredulously.

“The Major may have let it slip to a few old friends that you were leading a resistance cell while you were away and that you were injured fighting for freedom against Cardassians and the Dominion.”

“Ah, terrorists acknowledge terrorists.”

“Better than being glared at for being a colonizer or a collaborator, I suppose,” Julian added cheerily. He had regained his enduring but sometimes exhausting habit of finding silver linings since they had returned to the station. He simply would not allow Garak to mope. 

“I might be more comfortable with their scorn at this point.”

“Comfortable? No, just more accustomed. Now you will have to get used to more friendly faces around here,” Julian placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look at you! You’re doing great.”

Garak rolled his eyes. Every once in a while, despite himself, Julian still slipped into his doctoring frame of mind around his “favorite patient” 

“ _Doctor”_

“You’re right, you're right. It’s just...good to see you up and around.” He moved his hand briefly to Garaks hip and gave him a little squeeze before letting his hand fall into Garak’s as they approached their destination. 

“Remember what I said.”

“Remember it? I’m still greatly offended by your accusation. I am always “nice” to Chief O’Brien.” 

Julian rang and the door slid aside almost immediately. Molly had greeted them at the door dressed in a pink silk kimono that Garak had worked up and gave her before he had left. The dress was too short now, the sleeves ended mid-forearm and the hem danced around her shins. Garak noticed a slight tear in the under arms but she wore it with pride. Keiko had even pulled her hair up and decorated it with small orchid blooms. 

“Mr. Garak, Doctor Julian, Welcome to our home.” She said, trying to suppress a smile. She bowed and then ran up throwing her little arms around Garak’s legs. 

“I missed you!” She squealed into his knees. She had hooked little fingers into the brace and Julian quickly moved to keep anyone from getting hurt. “What’s that?” 

“Well Molly,” Keiko was rushing into the room to get a handle on the little girl as O’brien played with Yoshi in the living room. “Remember Mr. Garak got a big ouchie? Well Cardassian knees are so different from ours they need some time to heal on their own. He has to wear that so that he can get better. But it’s not scary.” She rubbed little Molly’s back to reassure her. 

“Julian and Garak, it’s good to have you both home. Get you something to drink?” Miles offered, bouncing Yoshi on his hip. The baby was no longer a baby but a chubby toddler with teeth. Garak couldn’t suppress a smile and make faces at Yoshi until he got a smile in return.

“Thank you, what are you having?” Julian said.

“Scotch.” 

“Well I’ll take one of those then, thanks.” Julian said, leading Garak over to a plush couch. 

“For me as well,” Garak called back and Miles froze. 

“You… like scotch?” Miles asked, eyes wide. Garak just smiled and nodded. He could tell Miles was making his best attempts to be comfortable with having a Cardassian in his home and around his kids. He seemed wary to turn his back. Keiko sat down in a chair next to them and gathered her daughter into her lap. 

“How are you feeling, Garak?” 

“Better every day...Keiko,”

“Ah ha! You _can_ do it,” she smiled. 

“How’s the work coming? Any word on your special project?” Miles said smiling while trying to ask casually, but it went down like a lead balloon and Keiko shot him a dirty look. 

“About as well as any tailor can do during wartime, Chief.” Garak smiled. 

“Well, what’s on the menu tonight?” Julian said cherrily, changing the subject. “It smells incredible.”

“Lucky for you I am the one cooking tonight.” Keiko said brightly, smoothing over her husband's faux pas. “We’ll be having some of my favorite Japanese comfort foods. Actually cooked too - I even grew a good amount of the produce myself.” She set Molly down. “Can you grab the nankotsu from the kitchen? I think it should be cool enough to munch on now while we wait for the soup to finish up.”

Molly ran out of the room and everyone stared into the drinks for a moment.

“It’s going well Chief.” Garak said softly into the void Molly had left. “That’s about all I can really say. We should be seeing returns very soon.” Julian raised his eyebrows at Keiko in silent surprise.

“Are you going to report me?” Garak smiled at Julian who beamed back. The break in tension was enough to relax Julian’s hand into Garak’s. “I’m not being a very good spy you know.” 

“We’ll blame the scotch, that still works among the brass, right?” Miles laughed and Garak actually smiled. 

Molly didn’t take long and arrived back with the deep fried treat along with salt, lemon, yamuk sauce, and another sauce that Garak later found out was an Earth dish called hoisin. He did like that as much but could see how Molly and Julian would love it, rich, dark, and sweet, just like that repulsive root beer. 

_Well, I guess I’m an honorary human now._ He thought to himself but looking around the room he was alright with it. Julian squeezed his hand and Garak glanced sideways at him with a smile. _At least I’m not the only one._

They munched happily with Keiko coming in and out of the room while she set up the lavish meal. Miles chatted, true mostly with Julian, but with two children to chase around their quarters it was less a conversation and more dinner and a show. Molly was soon out of the race though when she climbed in between Julian and Garak. 

“Does it hurt,” She said pointing at his knee. 

“Only sometimes, but don’t you worry. I can manage it.” He picked at the hem of her sleeve. “But my dear! We need to get you a new dress made soon! Shall we make you another kimono or something more modern, something of my own design, perhaps?” He tempted. “Of course for this new dress, you’ll need to stop all this growing!” Garak tickled the little girl and she giggled. Miles felt something inside of him clench but he breathed through it and focused on his little girl's laughter. That place in him unclenched when Keiko returned.

“Dinner time, Molly, go get ready for bed. Miles can you put Yoshi down?” The children had eaten far earlier in the evening and were going to, apparently, leave the grown-ups to their boring grown-up conversations. Molly protested slightly but it was nearly 20:00 and she was spent. She grabbed the last bit of fried cartilage off the plate and moped off to bed. Garak was sad to see her and Yoshi go. Children had a wonderful way of derailing conversations and refusing to let awkward moments or dead air exist. Human children especially were chatty with a predisposition for physical chaos and mischief. With them in bed, they’d be left to their own devices. 

Garak roughly swallowed the rest of his liquor. Julian was already standing next to him with his hand out to help him up off the couch. He sighed, looked at the hanging hand, and grabbed hold, putting as much weight on Julian as he could while using the cane in his other hand. He steadied himself for a moment and let the pain wash up from the wounded leg and back down as he breathed through it. He had been reluctant to take any serious pain medication, especially after his long and difficult recovery on Julian’s tiny Bajoran ship. They had to slip through Dominion space but avoiding the heavily patrolled areas added days to their already long voyage back to DS9. Julian was hopeful for a full recovery, but everything was taking longer to heal and they wouldn’t know for a few weeks yet. The whole thing made him feel weak for the first time since he was a child.

“Are you alright?” Julian asked quietly. He could tell this pain was serious by the way Garak was trying to cover it up. While this might be the perfect opportunity to get out of this social obligation Garak wasn’t about to let a short walk and mild conversation get the best of him. 

“Perfectly fine, just a bit stiff,” Garak smiled and squeezed Julian’s hand before letting it go. 

Miles watched them from the doorway of Yoshi’s room. Julian’s hand was on Garak’s lower back, their heads bowed and whispering. Together, they seem like the most natural thing in the world. Bit by bit, he was putting the pieces together to try and understand their relationship. Seeing how they were together, how careful Julian was with him. It was starting to remind him of his own marriage. Miles worried that part of him would never see Garak as anything more than a Cardassian. But...there was hope for him yet, it seemed. He still wasn’t wild about Molly’s delight in her interactions with Garak, and felt better now that she was in bed.

“Ah, Keiko, those orchids are doing wonderfully,” Garak said. Sitting on the window were three planters holding delicate orchids with one or two large white blooms on each. 

“You think? I can’t get as many blooms as when you first gave them to me.”

“It might just be a little cold in here for them. I’d place a heating pad under them for a few hours a day at least.” 

“How do you know so much about plants?” Miles asked as they all sat down. The table was full of bowls of steaming rice, pickled vegetables and grilled meat. Little saucers of soy were set at each place, as well as chopsticks and western silverware. Miles pulled out some chilled beer and filled everyone’s glasses, though Keiko stuck with wine.

“My, well, the man who raised me, he was a gardener of some renown on Cardassia. As a young man I briefly followed in his footsteps.” 

“Oh yeah, Odo said something about that. On Romulus right?,” Miles said. Keiko felt she was seconds away from kicking her husband under the table. 

“Let’s eat!” she said, yet again changing the subject. “Garak, I read that on Cardassia there’s a kind of fish eggs that is considered a delicacy. Well, where I’m from on Earth we have a similar delicacy called roe. It’s replicated, so not nearly as good. But I made some just in case you might want to try it.”

“If she could she’d keep salmon in one of the cargo bays just to have a steady supply of the real thing,” Miles said. 

“Very kind of you, I’m guessing it’s this?” he pointed towards a small plate piled high with glistening dark red orbs. Keiko expertly maneuvered her chopsticks to grab a few and popped them into her mouth. 

“Not as good as the real thing, but close enough.”

“Hmm.” Garak picked up the chopsticks and attempted to fit them into his hand like Kekio.

“You can just use a fork, that’s what I do anyway.” Miles said with a smile holding up his fork. 

“No, no, the sticks seem more… elegant... I will figure this out,” Garak said. Keiko laughed and leaned over to show him how to hold chopsticks. He managed to grab a few roe and take a bite. 

“Finally, something from Earth I can appreciate...besides just the present company, of course,” Garak said, fiddling with his chopsticks and diving in for more. 

“So, Julian, I’m sure you have all sorts of great stories about traveling the seedier parts of the galaxy,” O’Brien said. 

“It was _mostly_ boring. Paying off bureaucrats and rummaging through data, eating at dodgy replimats, traveling for days between systems, that sort of thing,” Julian helped himself to some curry udon. “Playing spycraft is much more entertaining. Though I did get a nasty blast with a disruptor for my troubles.” Julian pulled at the collar of his new outfit to show off just the edge of the scar. He indicated the true size with his hands.

“Jay-sus, that could have killed you!” 

“I managed to beam out before I got the whole blast, but the limitations of my medical bay did me about as well as it did Elim’s leg.”

“Elim?” Keiko asked, making a little surprised face as she picked up her wine. Elim tried to cover a slightly embarrassed and exasperated noise. He had never told Julian to not use his first name in public before but it was just not done unless you were with family.

“That is my first name. Elim Garak.” 

“Well nice to finally meet you Elim Garak.” O'Brien smiled jovially, his face starting to flush, and his muscles relaxing under the effects of the alcohol. “Glad you escaped your dance with death as well, what in the world happened on that rock?” 

“Julian will have to tell you, I have almost no memory of what happened - I know that I was shot, stabbed...oh and blown up…”

“We are still working on memory loss, but I can tell you it was a beautiful place. Keiko you would’ve found it so intriguing. The whole camp was suspended in these tree-like organisms. Nothing else alive and totally star locked…”

Julian and Keiko began to get sucked into talking exobotany, leaving Miles and Garak to glance awkwardly at their food and then back to one another. 

“It’s good to see you up and around, with that knee I mean.” Miles forced. 

“Chief -” 

“Call me Miles, Elim.” Miles grinned again, he knew it bristled Garak under his cool exterior and he was going to use it for all it was worth. 

“Miles. I know the last time we met wasn’t...ideal...” 

“It’s forgotten.” Miles waved it away and picked up his pale beer. “Thanks for being a gentleman and not pressing charges!” They both snickered quietly, a shaky bond but history had to start somewhere. “Odo came to me after and gave me a real chewing out, and then told me that you were… probably letting out some pent up frustration...over Julian... that you coulda killed me and the only thing saving me was your Order training. That’s when I really started to think you might actually have... real feelings for Jules.” Miles shrugged. 

“And now?”

“Now? After everything?” He took another swig of beer and winked, “Definitely sure,” 

Garak took the moment to poke Julian. _Now damn it, ask Miles now!_ Julian just swatted his hand away and kept babbling. 

Their night continued that way. Soon the plates were empty and the beer glasses had been filled and drained twice. They agreed to a nightcap for dessert, though Garak drank kanar this time. By the end of the night O'Brien had started talking directly to Garak, starting conversations and laughing in his jovial way at Garak’s clever and discrete responses to seemingly innocent questions. Soon the drinks were done and Julian was once again helping Garak to his feet. 

“Thanks for coming over. It’s been a while since we were all together. Christ, we were worried about you.” Miles clapped a hand on Julian’s shoulder and they both wavered slightly. They gave each other the kind of drunken smile only best friends can share. Julian's stomach was full of butterflies but he did a good job of hiding it. The night was almost over and he hadn't asked the big question. _What is he waiting for?_ Elim thought. He didn't notice how Julian watched with an intense interest in the way Miles approached Garak to say his farewells, as if he was waiting for a sign. 

“Take care Elim,” Miles said reaching for his hand. Garak was ready to repeat the handshake he had seen Julian and Tamorac perform - a perfunctory acknowledgment of his existence. Instead, Miles grabbed hold of his hand and yanked Garak against him into a hug, pinning Garak’s arms.

“Miles…” Keiko warned, trying to pry her inebriated husband off of the shocked Cardassian. Garak reached up and patted Miles on the back. With the gesture apparently reciprocated, Miles released him. 

“Right, It was a fun night, we will … we will have to do it again sometime.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that. I have one particular party in mind." Julian gave Garak a knowing glance. _Finally_ he inwardly groaned. "Miles, after the war is over, Garak and I were going to...well… it seems we are both in this for the long haul and we were thinking... if we were to get married would you be my best man?” 

Shocked silence and then Miles was bear-hugging again, Julian this time, while Keiko clapped her hands jumping up and down. Miles lifted him off the ground and shook Julian like a rag doll. 

“Oh am I ever in my cups.” He said as he put Julian down and wiped away a tear. “That’s beautiful, of course I will.” 

“I don’t know why you waited until the end of the evening my dear.” Garak groaned, rubbing his leg as the ache set in from standing there, saying their goodbyes for too long. 

“Of course, sorry Elim, we’ll be on our way!” Keiko hugged Julian and kissed his cheek and then did the same to Garak. 

“Congratulations Elim and Julian. We are so happy for you.” Keiko said as they left and headed back to their quarters. 

As soon as they were down the hall Garak shook his head in amazement. 

“Is everyone going to start calling me that now?” He had a bit of a frustrated flush on his face as Julian took him by the arm to support his slow progress down the corridor. 

“You’re really stiff, hold on, there is a replicator around this bend.” Julian hurried off and returned with a hypospray. “Don’t worry, this is a low dosage, don’t want to give you too much after a night of drinking. And Elim-” He smiled, “Only family use Cardassian first names - those people back there, they are part of your family.” 

"Working for Starfleet, Bajorans smiling at me, O'Brien's hugs, my first name - my It's a lot to get used to," Garak said wistfully, leaning heavily on the cane. Julian's face was stamped with concern but Garak felt the medication beginning to work and he flexed his knee experimentally. 

"I suppose it is, it's almost as if everyone can see you through my eyes now." Julian smiled and squeezed his hand.

The walk home was a bit easier now. They returned to their quarters and Julian helped Elim remove the brace, and get into bed. Julian produced a hypospray to counteract the effects of the alcohol. Instantly sobered, he laid down next to Elim - an experience he was still grateful for every time it occurred. He pulled Elim's arms around himself, his cool skin on the warmth of his back, and was quickly asleep. 


End file.
